Wings in the Night
by Lucinda
Summary: Willow is offered a position with Xanatos Enterprises as a teacher for a most curious class.
1. Prologue

Author: Lucinda

rating: pg

Main Characters: Willow Rosenberg, green male gargoyle, bronze female gargoyle.

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS, Disney's Gargoyles, or 'It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown'

Distribution: Bite Me, WLS, NHA, WWW - anyone else please ask first.

Prologue

Willow had desperately wanted to see the cartoon that Xander had been talking about. He'd been looking forward to it for over a month, talking about it during recess, and in the quiet times in their classroom. Everyone else in the second grade had known what it was as well, and they were all looking forward to watching it. Willow had been trying to figure out exactly what the Great Pumpkin thing was about. Something about peanuts as well. Who ate peanuts and pumpkins? Finally, she had managed to ask Xander, and he explained all about it. It was the Charlie Brown halloween special, with trick or treating and a pumpkin patch. After almost a week of effort and A's on all her tests that weak, Willow had managed to persuade her mother to let her watch it at Xander's house that year. Her mother had promised to come over and pick her up right afterwards, because it wasn't safe for small children to be out alone after dark.

She had laughed so much during the show. Xander had been right, it was wonderful. Although she didn't like Lucy, and she kept feeling sorry for Charlie Brown, all he got in his pillowcase was rocks. How sad, and even Snoopy had a better costume. How exactly did he get his doghouse to fly? Or was it all his imagination? Did dogs have imaginations like that? She had so many questions!

"Willow? Are you going to be staying very long?" Xander's question interrupted her mental tangents.

"My mom said that she would be over to pick me up as soon as the show was over. She found it listed, and said that I should stay here, because it's not safe to walk." Willow's answer was quick.

"Oh. In that case, can you help me go over that math we did today?"

An hour later, Willow's mother still hadn't showed up. There had been no phone call from her, no knocking at the door. It was beginning to look as if Willow had been abandoned. Xander had crept off to his bed, leaving Willow sitting in front of the dark television, contemplating her evening.

"I guess my mother isn't coming." Willow's voice was just a sad, soft whisper into the darkness of the room. Her head low, she shuffled towards the door, letting herself out of the house quietly. She didn't want to bother Mr. or Mrs. Harris. They both got cranky.

She was making her way slowly towards her house, carefully walking on the sidewalk so that she wouldn't be hit by a car. She shivered slightly, it had gotten cold while she had been at Xander's house. The breeze shifted again, stinging her eyes with cold, and going right up the sleeves of her jacket. Her hair blew into her eyes, making it harder to see, and she could hear the leaves skittering across the road. She could also hear footsteps of something crunching over the leaves, and the something was getting closer. Her mind filled with half formed images of things that it could be, a stray dog, a stranger, a late night jogger, or even the Great Pumpkin... although there was no pumpkin patch near this street.

A twig snapped from behind her, the sound accompanying the next crunching of leaves. Her heart pounding, Willow turned, half expecting to see something harmless, a cat or maybe even a noisy rabbit. Something that would tell her that she was overreacting, being afraid needlessly. It wasn't a rabbit.

Standing on the yard was something shaped mostly like a large dog, although it was covered with dark, knobbly scales instead of fur. It had lines of drool running from it's huge sharp teeth, and it's eyes were a really ickky yellow, like half cooked egg yolks. It came almost to her shoulder in height, and it was looking right at her.

Willow screamed in panic and bolted away, her only thoughts a panicked insistence that her mommy had told her monsters weren't real, the fear that the thing would want to eat her, and the oddly out of place idea that if this ugly not-dog ate her, she could never grow up to be a doctor and marry Xander. She ran, her breath burning in her lungs, hearing the thing chasing after her, it's claws scraping over the sidewalks.

She couldn't stop herself from glancing back every few moments, afraid that it would get her, needing to look and see that it hadn't, each time a small part hoping that the thing would be gone. Instead, each time, the thing was closer, gaining ground as she fled.

Part of her wanted to yell at herself for being such a... scaredy cat that she kept looking to see if it was gone, especially since she could still hear it getting closer. Part of her was convinced that she was going to die now. A third part was stubbornly insisting that this had to just be some sort of nightmare. A fourth part was wishing that something, anything would happen to save her from the big, scary thing chasing her.

She glanced back again, just in time to see a huge dark shape, bigger than an eagle swoop down, and she had the impression of sharp claws scraping over the back of the nasty not dog, making it stumble to the ground, yelping in pain and anger. She looked back ahead, and kept running, hoping that she could get away. Wondering what the big thing had been.

She didn't look up in time. There was a big stick laying on the sidewalk, and she caught her feet on it, spilling down onto the sidewalk, heat and pain flaring in her hands and knees. Panicked, she scrabbled back to her feet, lurching forwards again, tears streaming down her face from fear, and now the pain as well. She could hear it still chasing her, and falling like that would only let it get closer. She could almost feel it's hot, stinky breath on her, and any moment it would sink those sharp teeth into her back, ripping and tearing...

It's hot breath was steaming against her jacket when a pair of strong hands grabbed her from above, and she was lifted up into the air, high over the street. She could see a pair of arms wrapped around her, slightly muscled female arms, although there were only three talon-tipped fingers to each hand, and the skin looked like a leathery bronze something, not at all like her own hands. She could see the thing that had been chasing her, and as she watched, something landed beside it, something big, with wings and a long tail. It had to be as tall as Mr. Tanner, the school gym teacher! Except that it was green, and had a face like a lion's, and of course, there was the matter of the wings... Willow had no idea what the green creature was, but it seemed likely that something similar had grabbed her up into the air.

The dog-thing growled at the green winged man? - and he roared back, just like a lion. He had a staff, and it was clear that he was intending to fight the not-dog. Willow hoped that the green man with wings won. He wasn't quite as scary.

The something holding her circled around, landing a bit farther down the sidewalk, and carefully lowered Willow to the ground. Her body shaking, Willow looked behind her to see what had picked her up. This was definitely a woman creature. Her skin looked all bronzed by the light of the streetlamp, and she had big wings, and a tail shifting slightly behind her. Her face looked almost like a human's, but she had sharp teeth, like fangs. Red hair almost the same color as Willow's tumbled down around a pair of curling horns, something like a ram's. She wore dangling gold hoops in her ears, which made Willow feel safer, for some reason.

Willow could feel herself staring. She had never imagined that something like this creature could exist. Forgetting the hungry not-dog, she breathed a question. "What are you?"

The bronze woman with wings knelt down, making her eyes almost level with Willow's own, and Willow could see that her eyes were also green. "We are gargoyles. We protect... places, and people. We don't hurt people, it's not our way. Are you alright?"

"Gar... gargoyles? Like the waterspouts? I hurt my knees... I think I'm mostly afraid. That thing... it was going to eat me!" Willow could feel the tears multiply, and flung her arms around the gargoyle woman, wanting to feel comforting arms around her once again.

The gargoyle woman held the frightened child while her mate killed the hellhound. She rubbed soothing circles over the girl's back, and longed for the day when she would have hatchlings of her own. "Not quite the same, the waterspouts were inspired by tales of my people though. Were you going somewhere when it started to chase you?"

"I had been watching the Charlie Brown Halloween special at my friend's house. My mom was supposed to come and get me, but she didn't. So I was going to walk home, and it was out there, and it tried to get me..." Willow began sniffling, trying to slow her tears.

"Don't worry, child. We will make certain that you get home safely."

They stayed back a bit, but followed the whole way as Willow made her way home, not leaving until they saw her open a door, and enter a nice looking grey house.

Looking at his mate, the green one asked a question. "Do you think that she will remember? That she won't view our people as an enemy?"

Sighing, the female's answer hung mournfully in the air. "I don't know. I hope that she would remember, but I just don't know. The humans here are so good at forgetting about things... This is why were exist, to protect them from the dangers of the night."

end prologue.


	2. Meetings

Author: Lucinda

rating: pg 13

Pairing: none yet, will mention past-tense W/Oz, W/Tara Friendship and Willow/Spike friendship

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or Disney's Gargoyles

Distribution: Bite Me, WLS, NHA, WWW - anyone else please ask first.

note: we have arrived in early S4, slightly altered.

note: I am changing some things from the original BtVS storyline. You have been warned. This means Tara, who is NOT dating Willow.

…..

.

Years had passed, and Willow had grown from a small girl to a young woman. She no longer had to run from all of the creatures that hunted in the night, and had been helping Buffy fight demons for four years. She had never forgotten the night that two gargoyles had saved her from what she had later learned was a hell hound. She hadn't spoken about it to anyone, first because nobody would have believed that it had happened, and later because nobody would have believed that the gargoyles weren't dangerous. Buffy tended to attack first, and ask questions later.

Occasionally, she had thought that she'd seen something in the air, heard a whisper of sound that could have been the gargoyles, but she hadn't seen them again. She'd never forgotten them though, or that not all things other than human had to be bad. The gargoyles, the female that she'd thought of as Ember and the male she'd thought of as Leo. Those probably weren't their names, but she'd remembered them so vividly, occasionally imagining finding them, and talking and then... but she had no idea where to find them.

It was because of them that she had been willing to believe that Angel might not be evil when the discovered that he was a vampire. It was because of them that Willow never attacked first on patrols, that she always waited for the vampires or demons to attack first. Different didn't have to mean bad.

But so many things had changed since she was little, and again since Angel had left for Los Angeles, fleeing from the temptation of Buffy, fearing the loophole that the gypsy spell contained, the possibility that he could lose his soul and visit terror and destruction on everyone around him, again. Oz had cheated on her, tried to attack her, and left. Spike had tried to kill her, but couldn't due to a chip in his head, placed there by a semi-secret group of soldiers with a base somewhere underground and near the campus, a group that Buffy's new boyfriend Riley was a member of.

As if that wasn't enough, she had decided to check out the campus Wiccan group, in hopes of finding someone to teach her magic, to help give her studies direction. That was where she'd met Tara, the only other person at the meeting that hadn't seemed like either a complete flake or some variant of feminist looking for recruits. She didn't know quite what to think about Tara, but her mind had kept returning to the quiet blond. She'd be considering her psychology homework and Tara's face would pop into her head. A random person that she passed would remind her of Tara, the color of her hair, or the way she dressed.

She didn't understand it. Tara had been fairly quiet, and nothing about her appearance seemed as if she were trying to seek attention. Willow had never been sexually attracted to women before, so she didn't think that it was a new crush. But it had been useful to remember Tara on the night that the Gentlemen had come to Sunnydale, carving hearts from girls. She had combined her power with Tara's to move a refrigerator. Although, she wasn't quite certain why Tara had been at Stevenson Hall anyhow, her dorm room was in Domingus.

Buffy and the others had seemed to accept Tara into their group. The only person who didn't seem to accept her was Spike, who had only recently been allowed to start going about untied.

Buffy had mentioned seeing a strange something on patrol, something that she'd described as really big, sort of bluish, with wings, a long tail, and horns. She'd also said that it wasn't like anything that she'd fought before. Giles had suggested that Willow and Tara use a spell, one that would reveal the locations of the assorted demons in and near Sunnydale, thus allowing Buffy to locate the creature from last night.

She'd found Tara's room, and while it was the same size as the one she shared with Buffy, it felt positively tiny. Dark posters covered the walls, filled with images of goddesses and oak trees. There was a tall shelf full of dark bound books, and a deep green, grey and blue rag rug covered most of the floor. The window was covered by long green curtains, making the room darker. In the corner, a stick of incense burned, filling the room with an unfamiliar scent, one that Willow remembered clinging to Tara on the other occasions that they'd met. The shelves, counters, every available surface had things on it, candles and paperweights and small statues, crystals and a painted peacock feather and dark pottery cups holding sticks of incense.

After a bit of social chatting over a cup of herbal tea, Willow finally mentioned that Buffy had thought she'd run into a strange new demon on patrol, and had wanted to ask Willow and Tara to cast a demon detecting spell. Tara had looked very nervous about the spell, and had murmured something about not having a lot of herbs, and what if... Willow hadn't quite caught all of Tara's words, but had definitely noticed the fact that Tara had become very nervous.

Willow had even brought a square of cloth to use as a map, with some of the key locations marked as references. Between that and the carefully prepared bundles of herbs, the spell should be no trouble at all. She couldn't think of anyone else that she would rather cast with.

Tara had finally agreed, her expression still nervous. Carefully, they placed the square of cloth on the floor, settling themselves on the floor at opposite sides, the 'map' spread between the. Willow closed her eyes, and they chanted the incantation, and it was time to toss the herbs and powders over the map, and the interactions of the two blends and the magic of the spell would mark the locations of demons. Because her eyes were closed, Willow didn't see Tara throw her powder not over the map, but under her bed, deliberately ruining the spell.

Willow opened her eyes, expecting to see points of green glowing on the map, the way that the spell would have dyed the locations of the demons into the map. Instead, the map held only a fine dusting of herbs and the few painted markings for locations. Baffled, Willow looked over the map, searching for even the tiniest hint of green. She didn't see the tiny smile that crossed Tara's face, or see the small spot of green glowing on Tara's thumb.

"M-maybe it was just... a little harder th-than you thought?" Tara's voice brought Willow back from her search.

Willow sighed, reluctantly ending her search. "I just don't understand. That spell is really simple, just say some words, focus on finding the demons, and throw the powder and the herbs together. It should have worked... Why didn't it work?"

"Don't w-worry so much. Buffy's good at what she does. I'm sure that she'll find all the dangerous d-demons just f-fine on her own."

They practiced a few very basic spells, the sort of things that Tara had explained were supposed to help build focus and control. They also talked about music and movies, having what could be summed up as 'girl-talk'. Over all, the evening went interestingly, and Willow left with a pleasant feeling. A new friend would be good, especially if it was someone that she could talk to about vampires and demons and spells.

It wasn't until Willow had returned to her room, and was once again staring at Buffy's rough sketch of the creature that she'd seen that it occurred to Willow that the description wasn't entirely new to her. Buffy's unknown creature had been about the same height as a human, with wings on his back, and a long tail. She'd also said that he'd only had three fingers. Picking up Buffy's rough sketch, Willow pulled out a binder with some of her own drawings. Included in the binder were a handful of the drawings that she had made as a child, most specifically the first sketch that she had made of the gargoyles that she had called Ember and Leo. Willow smiled as she remembered them, the two creatures called gargoyles that had saved her that long ago night.

She looked at Buffy's sketch, and then at her own crayon drawing. They looked very similar. Not quite the same, but Leo hadn't looked quite the same as Ember, what if this bluish green creature was another of their people? They hadn't been a danger, they had saved her. How was it that Ember had put it? 'We protect... places and people.' If the blue creature was a gargoyle, then it was no danger to them.

But what if it wasn't a gargoyle? What else could it be? Maybe she should check some of Giles' books for any other winged creatures that might have ended up in Sunnydale.

end part 1.

After a great deal of searching through Giles books, with Spike making a few comments from the stairwell. She had searched through big books, glancing over hundreds of pictures and drawings of demons trying to find something similar to what Buffy had described. She had been mostly able to ignore Spike's comments about her spending too much time with old books.

"What are you even looking for anyhow?" His voice sounded mostly bored, with a hint of curiosity. Perhaps he was hoping that bothering her would ease his boredom.

"Things with wings. That aren't gargoyles, and can exist outside of the lesser hells without regular bloody sacrifices... I started with his copy of the Thondrost Fiend Appendix. Never start with that... well, you might like some of the etchings of mass sacrifices." She hardly even thought about her words, they just slipped forth.

"Gargoyles? What about gargoyles? Why are you looking for..." With those fragments that would have been more natural from Willow, Spike leapt across the floor, yanking the paper with Buffy's crayon drawing of the winged thing that she had seen the other night.

Staring at the paper, he looked as if he'd seen something unexpected, some long lost memory. Folding the page and tucking it into his pocket, he looked at her, all traces of boredom gone. His words were incredibly serious, with a trace of urgency. "Tell me that the Slayer isn't trying to have you find how to kill him."

Willow stared at him, wondering exactly why it seemed so important to Spike that Buffy wasn't after the gargoyle. "She doesn't know what 'it' was, only that she saw it a few nights ago, and it vanished, She wants to be prepared if it's dangerous. I wanted to know what it might be if it wasn't a gargoyle. So far, the answer seems to be that it has to be a gargoyle by process of elimination, nothing else has the right shape and size."

"How did you know that he's a gargoyle, Red?" Spike's voice still had that serious tone that she wasn't quite used to.

Pondering things for a moment, Willow tried to sort things out. Spike had Buffy's picture, so he obviously knew there was a gargoyle in Sunnydale. He seemed to want them to stay safe, so it shouldn't hurt if she told him. "Look at the other page."

Giving her a look as if he was trying to puzzle her out, he picked up the other paper, her drawing which had been under the cover of the book, and looked at it, his eyes widening as he saw the yellowish orange female gargoyle with red hair and the green one with a lion head. Both clearly different from the one Buffy had drawn, the paper yellowed from the years. "Where did you get this?"

"I drew it, years ago. I went to Xander's to watch the Charlie Brown Halloween special... my mother didn't come get me like she'd said she would, so I started to walk home. They saved me from a hellhound, not that I knew what it was at the time. I thought it was a big scary dog-thing. She said that they were gargoyles, and that they protected."

He looked at her, his eyes intense. "Who else have you told about this?"

"Nobody. Well, not about them at least. Only that my mom didn't get me and I got my knees skinned up tripping over a tree branch. Who would have believed me if I'd mentioned anything else? Then I met Buffy, and she's more the attack first, then ask what it is or was..." Willow's voice trailed off. "How did you know he was a gargoyle?"

"I used to live in London. I ran into one there, back when I was mortal. Left a good impression on me." His voice was soft, as if he was reluctant to mention anything from his mortal life.

"Oh... well, I don't know how many there are, but... I'm pretty sure they're good guys. She said they protect, and they saved me, so I'm sort of inclined to think they should be left out of what we tell Buffy about. Sunnydale can use all the protection that it can get." She let one hand rest on his sleeve, a bit hesitantly. It almost felt as if she and Spike were having a bonding moment, and she didn't want to ruin it.

"Bloody right they're the good guys. It's in what they are, down to the bone. Good to know there's a few around... Are they even in any of Giles' books then?" Spike sounded almost wistful for a moment.

"Not that I've found... and I've been looking for hours." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear with a frustrated sigh.

"And exactly what made you spend hours looking through demon books? Avoiding Chubs and Fluffy? Got a stalker I could scare off?"

"Nothing so easily explained. It's Tara." Willow looked at her hands, remembering the feeling of the bag of powder in them in Tara's room, the gathering of energy, and the... fizzle from their spell.

"What about her? Finally decide that there's something seriously wrong with her? I know she's hiding something." Spike sounded interested, hopeful that there was finally someone listening to his dislike of the blonde witch.

"I'm not sure what. I keep thinking about her, and I'm not sure why. And I do think she's hiding something from the world, but... maybe it's just that she's really got some magic? I tried to have her help me cast a demon detection spell, but the spell didn't work. Not at all."

"Why not? You don't botch spells like that, not even if you have Chubs helping." Spike sounded as if he'd found a clue, some hint that his suspicions might be justified.

"I don't really know why. I mean, I felt the power gather, and then... it just sort of fizzled away. And that wasn't right, it shouldn't have done that. There's something not right about the spell not working, and something that Tara's hiding. I'm afraid the two might be linked, or maybe one or the other has to do with some big evil brewing over the hellmouth. I'd like to have as much advance warning as possible for some of that sort of thing, you know?" She looked at Spike, hoping that he didn't think her concerns were silly.

"Sounds like a perfectly reasonable thing to me. And I still don't trust her."

end part 2.

It was only a few days after the demon locating spell that Willow found Tara shaking in the campus library. Tara looked as if she'd just been utterly terrified by something, some unexpected trouble. Willow felt a pull to try to help Tara, a strong urge to try to make everything better for the other witch. Walking over, she tried to look for any clue that would tell her what was going on.

"Tara? What happened? You look... upset. Would it help to talk about it?" She wondered if it would be something simple to fix, like a dangerous vampire, or a problem with a term paper, but she doubted that it would be anything so simple.

Tara looked up, her eyes bloodshot from the tears that were still streaming down her cheeks. "W-willow. It's... I'm not sure what you could do."

"Please, I want to help. Tell me what's wrong." Willow couldn't try to help Tara if she didn't know what was wrong.

"It's... my father came here to take me home." Tara sniffled, new tears making their way down her cheeks.

Willow frowned slightly. Something wasn't adding up here. "What's so bad about your family visiting? I mean, you don't really talk about them."

"They... there was a reason why I chose a college half way across the country from my family. I had to get away, away from the place that they wanted for me. I couldn't spend my whole life cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry for my father and brother, knowing that they would never let me go out, never let me try to find happiness. They want me to go back and take care of them... for the rest of my life." The despair and fear in Tara's voice was horrible.

Willow felt something cold slither into the pit of her stomach. On the one hand, Tara sounded so afraid, so certain of what would happen if she went back with her family. But on the other, something about it didn't sit quite right. There had to be something that she was overlooking. If she was so afraid of her family, why would she go back? "Tara? How old are you?"

"A-almost twenty one. I will b-be in another month." Tara sniffled again, wiping at the tears on her cheek with one hand.

"So, you don't really have to do what they say. At eighteen, you're old enough to move out on your own, so twenty almost twenty one is more than old enough. Legally, they can't make you go back with them. Why don't you just stay?" Tara was a smart girl, why hadn't this occurred to her?

"You... you don't understand. They're big and strong... they won't let me just stay here. I'm not strong enough to fight them..."

Willow felt almost as if something was trying to pull her towards Tara, some emotional force demanding that she help. That she find a way to fix this as she had with so many of the problems that Buffy had encountered. "Actually, Buffy likes having you around too. Just tell her that you don't want to go, she won't let them kidnap you. She's really strong... remember?"

Tara gave a shaky smile, something dark and hidden in her eyes, possible more fear, possibly some other secret that she hadn't told Willow. "But... I have more faith in you. You can make everything better."

Willow smiled at her, oddly touched that Tara would rather have Willow protecting her than Buffy. She couldn't quite remember how afterwards, but she and Tara ended up at the Magic Box, helping Giles shelve some of the things that had arrived in his last shipment.

Tara jumped every time the bell rang, clearly expecting her family to show up and drag her kicking and screaming away with them. Spike had looked amused at Tara's obvious fear and unease, which had caused Xander to yell at him, demanding to know 'what sort of sick person delighted in scaring a girl?'

Spike had simply smirked, sitting down along the row of book shelves, flipping open a magazine about cars, apparently focusing his attention of its pages. Willow noticed that he wasn't actually turning the pages, and he kept glancing at them, or rather, glancing at Tara. What did Spike know or think that he knew?

The bell rang again, and three large men entered the store, their postures stiff and hostile. One of them had a shirt that had a logo for some group called the QuarryMen, and a picture of a hammer. The older man looked around the shop, visibly sneering at it. "Tara! It's time to go home, you've wasted enough time on this college nonsense."

Tara shrank back in her seat, her face going pale at the sight of her family really here, glaring down at her. She took a few quick breaths, her lips parted as if to speak before the words actually came forth. "N-no. I d-don't want to g-go b-back with you."

The younger man in the QuarryMen shirt glared at Tara, his eyes narrowed. "What choice do you think you have?"

"I have f-friends here. T-they w-won't let you t-take me away." Tara looked so pale, as if she was scared to death.

The older man, her father shook his head, almost sadly. "You didn't tell them, did you? Do you really think they would help you if they knew? Would anyone?"

"What secret?" Xander's puzzled whisper seemed to carry to easily, to loudly in the tense silence.

"You didn't tell them. I can't really say that I'm surprised. They wouldn't want anything to do with you if they knew the truth. If they knew that you had demon blood." The man almost seemed to smile a bit at the stunned gasps from around the room.

Buffy spoke, her voice puzzled. "Demon blood? What sort of demon blood? Tara hasn't caused any trouble..."

The men glared at Buffy, as if angered by her refusal to just follow their imagined script. The one in the QuarryMen shirt spoke, his voice hostile. "What does it matter what sort of demon blood she has? We need to take her back home so we can make certain it never comes out. Keep her contained."

Tara looked terrified, shrinking back into the chair even farther, her knees pulled up until she had almost vanished behind her long floral skirt. She was shaking, and a small whimpering noise emerged from behind the curtain of her hair.

Spike spoke then, his question seeming to take Tara's family by surprise. "What's this QuarryMen thing? Some sort of band?"

Looking a bit surprised by Spike's question, the younger man gave this little condescending smile, one that raised lines of annoyance through most of the people in the room. "Not a band. They are the first line of defense against a danger that stalks the night. There are horrible creatures that only come forth under the cover of night, things so evil that their bodies turn to stone in the day. Gargoyles."

Spike narrowed his eyes, settling back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Forgotten, his magazine fell in a slithering heap to the floor. He simply sat there, looking over the three men as if mentally sizing them up for weaknesses and the exact dimensions for a coffin. Willow was the only one with any idea what had cause that reaction from him, and was too busy being shocked and horrified in her own right. It was clear to both Willow and Spike exactly what these QuarryMen would do if they found a gargoyle by the light of day. Neither of them liked the idea.

Buffy glared at the men, her hands defiantly placed on her hips. "I am not about to let you drag Tara out of here just because you have some stupid story about her being part demon. Get over it and get out of my town."

The one who wasn't wearing the QuarryMen shirt glared at Buffy, his face gone red with anger. "Now look here, missy. It's not your place to be telling us how to manage out family. Clearly, your daddy never bothered to keep you in line very well." He swung his fist at Buffy, his hostile expression making it clear that he obviously thought that he could beat Buffy 'into line' and then drag Tara away.

Giles spoke, his tone shocked and appalled while he ignored the man attempting to hit Buffy. He knew that the Slayer could evade or block any blow from a normal man. "You never really believed it, did you? It was all just an excuse to keep the women in your lives quiet and obedient. How utterly vile and despicable..."

Between Giles, Xander, Buffy, Willow, and an infuriated Anya, Tara's relatives were pushed out the door. The left with a great deal of muttering, and there was a possibility that they might try to return.

end part 3.

"Tara? Are you really part... Why would your family try to say that you're part demon? Most people don't even believe in demons." Xander's voice was full of confusion.

Buffy glared at Xander. "Of course Tara isn't part demon. They were just saying that to try to make her obey them. We just covered that sort of thing in Psych class. It's mental manipulation, nothing more. Watch, I'll prove it. Spike, hit Tara, the chip will go off, and everyone will know that she's all human."

Tara's voice was filled with worry, and rose faintly from her chair. "I don't like the sound of that plan..."

Spike grinned, rising from his chair with astonishing speed. "It sounds pretty good to me." He moved closer to Tara, a predatory smirk on his face as he circled around, trying to find exactly the right opening. After all, he would only have a moment before the chip turned his head into a throbbing mass of pain, he'd best make this count.

Finally, he saw his perfect opening, and his fist moved out, connecting with her shoulder blade, eliciting a sharp cry of pain from Tara. Spike tensed, waiting for the pain that would surely follow... but it didn't. Slowly, a delighted grin spread over Spike's face.

"No pain. I think maybe this thing finally quit." The grin changed, and with a motion almost too fast to follow, he spun on his feet, his fist lashing out again, this time at Buffy, who had only threatened to stake him at least twice an hour daily since he'd got the chip. His fist impacted audibly, much louder and more forceful than the blow he'd given Tara, and it was immediately followed by Buffy's pain filled yelp and his own anguished howl as the chip activated, sending horrendous pain through his body.

For several long moments, the Magic Box was utterly silent. Tara was rubbing her shoulder, a small grimace on her face. Buffy had staggered back into the wall from the force of Spike's blow, and she was clearly in some pain from it. Spike had collapsed to the ground, his hands clutching his head so tightly that his knuckles had gone even paler.

"I guess the chip still works." Xander's words came slowly, seeming very loud in the silence. "If the chip works, then that must mean... Tara?"

Tara was looking at Xander, her face now showing another emotion, guilt. She took a slow step away from Buffy, her voice trembling with emotions. "I... it's n-not a s-s-serious problem... it's j-just a little b-bit..."

Willow felt something go through her, like a stab of pain. After a few impossibly long heartbeats, she identified it as betrayal. Tara wasn't surprised by this discovery, only afraid. That could only mean that she had known, that the demon-detection spell HAD been deliberately sabotaged. "You knew, didn't you? That's why the spell didn't work."

"But I'm n-not d-dangerous!" Tara's voice had a tone of panic in it now.

Slowly, Spike had regained his feet, his chest heaving as he drew unnecessary breaths in what had to be an effort to control the pain. His eyes looked almost red, the color caused by some of the tiny capillaries in the eyes bursting. The effect it had on him was terrifying, especially since he still had his fangs. He was looking right at Tara, his expression giving none of his thoughts away.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Tara. I just... I thought you were my friend, that you could trust me. Obviously, you didn't. I... I have to go now." Willow slipped past Tara and out the door. How could she stay in the same room as Tara, knowing that the other girl had deliberately deceived her, tried to make her think the spell had failed through some fault or imprecision of her power when it had been Tara? What else had she concealed? Had her desire to help Tara been real or some sort of influence?

Spike glared at Tara, now feeling entirely justified in his distrust of her. "You may not be the sort who goes for mass destruction and carnage. Hell, you may even be mostly human. But that's a long way from being harmless. Right now, Red's pretty much in pieces because you lied to her. Because she thought that you were her friend. Now, it looks to me like you just wanted someone to help make sure daddy dearest didn't drag you back home with him."

His angry words spent, Spike stalked out of the shop. Maybe he'd best make sure that Willow was alright.

end part 4.

Spike left the Magic Box, hoping to find Willow. She had become something to him, not quite a friend, but certainly the closest that he had right now. She treated him like a person, a slightly scary person even. And she had just been betrayed by someone that she thought was her friend. That meant that she might not be paying as much attention to the dangers of Sunnydale.

He couldn't just be 'Spike the vampire' anymore. Because of the chip, he had to figure out who he was, who was Spike? The real Spike, not any of the masks that he had been in the habit of using. The only person that he thought would let him figure it out would be Willow. She would help him remember that he was still Spike, no matter what had happened this past few months.

He was also incredibly furious about Tara's relative, the one with the QuarryMen shirt. Considering gargoyles as a danger... what an idiot. Gargoyles weren't evil and dangerous, that was vampires, or demons. If it wasn't for this chip... he winced at the warning flicker of pain that throbbed though his head at the idea of what he would have done. If the idiot was actually hoping to hurt or kill gargoyles, it would be a good idea to try to make certain that he didn't find any. Ever.

Wandering around Sunnydale, he caught sight of a glimpse of red hair. Had that been Willow? He turned that way, moving faster. There were bad things out after dark, and he had this annoying protective streak, one of the reasons that he'd stayed with Dru all those years. He had needed to take care of someone. Lately, he'd been sort of helping take care of Willow, at least as much as he could safely manage. There was another glimpse of red, the right sort of motion to be long red hair. How long was Willow's hair?

Following the glimpse of red, he found himself in a park. There was a sudden shaking in the tree, and he looked up right in time to see a large winged shape soar into the night sky, something with a long tail and taloned feet. A gargoyle. Following the shape as the gargoyle flew through a patch of moonlight, he saw that it had long red hair, and bronze colored skin.

Willow was sitting on the merry-go-round, her feet dragging slowly across the dust. She could have passed for someone years younger in that moment, and she looked so lost and alone. How could he let her stay there like that? Settling beside her, he spoke softly, partly to see if she was even aware of his presence. "Red?"

"It hurt."

For a moment, he wasn't certain if she realized exactly who had sat beside her, she sounded so... calm, almost too calm. What was going on inside her head? "Tara, you mean?"

She nodded, a small movement. Something that glittered for a moment in the moonlight fell, sparkling briefly before becoming a dark splotch on her leg. "I thought that she liked me, that someone was finally seeing me for more than the homework buddy, or the Slayer's friend. That I had a friend. Then it turns out that she just wanted to hide behind me, that she wanted to use me as a defense. I can understand not wanting to go back, but... she used me. It hurt. Sunnydale hurts... and there isn't a lot of people that I can talk to about it, you know? I mean, Buffy, but she's all caught up in Riley. Xander is so busy with Anya... and I don't think Anya likes me. Ever since that spell to get her amulet... umm... didn't get an amulet. Giles is so busy with Buffy... and you have your own life, or ... umm, something. Who has time for Willow? Especially now that Oz... and Tara wasn't really wanting to be my friend either."

Spike put one hand over hers, feeling how chilled she had become in the night air. If anything, his hand might have been warmer than hers. "Willow? I have nothing better to do than listen to you. Besides, I know that if I listen to you be unhappy about the wolf, and whatever else is troubling me, you'll listen to my troubles. Even if you don't miss Dru, and seem a bit glad about the chip every once in a while."

She gave him a small smile, looking at him with green eyes filled with tears. "Sometimes, I just wish there was somewhere else that I could go. A whole new place, with no memories of Jesse or Oz, a place that won't have people who think I'm just Buffy's friend or the little geek. Just, somewhere that I could be Willow."

"What's stopping you?" He felt genuinely curious. She had depths to her that were amazing in their complexity.

With a small sigh, she looked at his hand resting on hers. "Where would I go? How would I get there if I had a somewhere to go?"

"Well, I can offer a bit of help with that. If you find somewhere, I'll take you there. Price is that I'll drive, and we listen to my music on the way. Deal?" Just smile again, let me know that there's someone to listen to about things other than demons and dating...

A small giggle escaped from her lips, and she smiled almost in spite of herself. "I can deal with that. Besides, I've rode in the car with Buffy, Xander and Cordelia. You have to be better. All we need now is somewhere to go. Anywhere."

Meanwhile, In Manhattan...

"Eliza. I hope things have been going better for you lately than they have for me." The voice was a bit rough, and carried the sound of exhaustion and frustration as well as a faint purring of the r's. It was the sort of almost ominous voice that sounded perfectly natural from a shadowy staircase in an ancient stone castle during the night. The fact that the castle was perched on the top of a skyscraper did nothing to make the voice out of place.

Frowning slightly, Detective Eliza Maza looked at her brother, who called himself Talon after he had been mutated into his present form. He now resembled a large humanoid cat with bat-like wings. "What's wrong? Trouble with you and Maggie?"

With a slight huff, her brother came closer. "I wish it was something so simple. Then all I would have to do would be grovel in apology, give her some flowers... no. It's a lot more complicated. Claw and Fang have been trying to run rampant, bullying some of the other people. And I haven't got time to keep them in line and teach the clones anything... although we have them using pronouns at last. I just... wish I had a little help." He raked his sharp claws through his short fur. "Not exactly like I can advertise in the want-ads anymore though, is it?"

Eliza smiled faintly, still feeling as if she should have been able to prevent her brother's mutation. "Well, it does sound a bit complicated. Are you sure there aren't any teachers in the Labyrinth?"

"I checked." His voice sounded almost gloomy. "Not a single one. It's not fair to them not to have some sort of an education, something more than how to follow orders. If there was something more that I could do..." His voice trailed off into silence before resuming with an almost defeated tone. "I feel a bit out of my depth sometimes. But hey, say hello to the clan for me. I have to go... promised to meet Maggie for the moonlight music at the park."

"Bye, big brother." Eliza gave a small wave, wishing her brother all the luck he could get. Neither of them had noticed the small security camera that had caught their short conversation.

In a small room, David Xanatos sat watching one of the security screens. He had happened to be in the room when Detective Maza and her brother had had their little chat. If the truth were known, he actually felt a bit guilty about his part in Derek Maza's mutation. Guilty enough that he decided to see if there was a little something that he could do to help things out. "Owen?"

"Yes, Mr. Xanatos?" Owen Burnett's voice was emotionless, perfectly calm.

Xanatos turned slightly, looking at his assistant. He wasn't quite certain how Owen could always be exactly where he was needed, but it was a most useful ability. "It seems that Talon has a slight teacher shortage in the Labyrinth. Do you think that you could find someone that would be capable and willing to assist with the education of the clones?"

Owen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It will not be the most simple of tasks. The person must be well enough educated to teach the clones, and open minded enough to deal with the fact that they are not human. It would also be wise to find someone that could deal with the level of... shall we say, strangeness that seems to have followed the gargoyles. I shall get right on the task, and I will find someone suitable. Are there any other criteria that you wish for me to use for my search?"

Shrugging slightly, Xanatos only had a single suggestion. "Someone that won't be unsettled and frightened by genetic mutations and possible hostile sorcerers, such as Demona."

With a slight bow, Owen turned to leave the room. "I will find someone suitable, Mr. Xanatos. You can count on me."

end part 5.

Three days later, Owen Burnett stood in front of David Xanatos' desk, a slender folder in one hand and a small frown on his face. "I have found several potential candidates for the position that you mentioned. However, the requirements were a bit... demanding, and there were very few possibilities. I have assembled the available information for all six, however, there is one that I feel would be by far the best choice."

Xanatos looked up, a bit startled by the last part of Owen's statement. He'd expected Owen to discover several possible candidates, but to actually state that there was one that he felt best for the position was something new. "Which person stands out, and why?"

Owen's expression changed slightly, becoming his version of a small smile as he pulled one file to the top, and presented it to his employer. "Willow Rosenberg, age twenty, currently a sophomore college student at the University of Sunnydale, a small town in California. She does not have the strongest academic education of the other candidates, but I feel that there are other aspects to her background that make her a better choice. First, she has few relatives, and less contact with her parents than you have, sir. She was approached by Microsoft for a programming position four years ago, but refused in order to finish high school. There is a very high occurrence of abnormal injuries and deaths in the town, a strong indication of what would most simply be termed paranormal activities. She is also the only candidate with any previous teaching experience."

Xanatos looked at Owen, surprise on his face. "If this girl is still in college, how does she have teaching experience?"

"One of the mysterious deaths in Sunnydale was the high school computer teacher, and Miss Rosenberg filled in as a temporary computer teacher until a new faculty member could be found. There have also been several mystical occurrences that she has had contact with, and she has shown no signs of mental breakdown. None of the other candidates have had this sort of definite exposure to unusual events." Owen's voice was cool and calm, as if the discussion of magical spells and possibly inhuman creatures at work happened every day. That was a slight exaggeration, they could usually go several weeks.

"Hmmm... You've never been wrong about a person's qualifications before. Do you think Miss Rosenberg's incomplete education would be an impairment for the position?" Xanatos was thoughtful.

"Not for the basic education that Derek's people will need. Especially not if you offer to pay for continued education, which would have an added benefit of being an excellent job perk, and not one easily found from other potential employers, who might be reluctant to hire someone lacking in a completed Bachelor's degree." Owen's voice was confident, and justifiably so. The amount of excellent jobs available for someone without higher education were slender, and the ones that were entirely legal were even fewer.

"I trust that you can come up with a suitable contract and benefits package? We should have a firm offer before contacting her." Xanatos' voice made the request less of a question and more of an assignment.

"Of course, sir." With a small nod, Owen placed the other files on the edge of the desk and left the room.

All he needed to do now was to come up with a benefits package and contract that would guarantee that the young woman would accept the job without it seeming so generous that she would suspect something illegal about the whole situation. Although, the legality of several of Mr. Xanatos' projects was questionable at best, this was just a simple teaching position. For a group of cloned gargoyles that shouldn't have existed in the first place, currently under the care of an illegally mutated former police officer... Well, perhaps there were a few questionable points to this position. Perhaps it would be best to minimize those aspects until she was actually here. Once she had left her home and traveled across the country for a position, the chances of her refusing it would be rather small.

Smiling to himself as he considered the rest of his day, Owen retreated to his seldom used office. There was quite a bit that needed to be done, and some of it absolutely could not be delegated. Who could he send to inform Talon that Mr. Xanatos had decided to find the clones a teacher?

Willow sat on the bed of her dorm room, alone because Buffy was once more out with Riley Finn. She had collected the mail, and there was a very official looking large envelope addressed to her. The return address was Xanatos Enterprises, a very large and powerful combined corporation based in New York. Xanatos Enterprises was influential, innovative, and on the up rise, despite a few minor and rapidly dropped from the media issues, and a few minor scandalous rumors about the founder, one David Xanatos. She had no idea why Xanatos Enterprises would have sent her a letter. Unless someone had detected her hacking into their cybernetics research section last month...

Carefully, her hands shaking, she opened the envelope, having decided that staring at it wouldn't answer any of her questions, but she might get some answers if she looked inside. She just hoped those answers weren't scary.

It took a few moments for the printed words to make sense to her as she stared at the cover letter. Then, once she read them, she still wasn't quite certain that she understood. They wanted to offer her a job? Doing what? The page seemed a bit vague, simply describing it as 'informational transfer and clarification'. Why her, out of the whole country? Why not someone that had actually applied to the company? What exactly were the 'unique qualifications' that she was supposed to have, and how did this Mr. Owen Burnett know about them? What DID he know about her?

She fretted about it for a while. Over her lunch which had no flavor, she came to a decision. She had wanted an opportunity to leave Sunnydale, to go somewhere that she could just be Willow, and an opportunity had opened for her. Shouldn't she consider the idea? And... hadn't Spike promised her transportation if she found a somewhere to go?

Decision made, she pulled out the packet of papers once more, looking over the proposed benefits, and a few of the mentioned contract clauses. The company would find and pay for a 'reasonable residence', she would have full medical and dental coverage from the minute that she signed the contract, and they would reimburse her for further education. It almost sounded too good to be true.

Really, it didn't sound too bad. Spike could get her to New York, where she would have no reminder of Tara, Oz, or Jesse. Nobody would know that she was the Slayer's friend, or that she'd been a nerd in school, well, maybe they might guess that one. But she could be herself. Maybe even with a job, a very high paying job, especially for someone with no college degree.

Filled with hope for the first time in longer than she could remember, Willow got up from her bed, the handful of papers carefully slid back into their envelope, and headed out the door. She wanted to tell Spike about this, and see if he had really meant it when he'd offered to take her away from all of this. If he had been, it looked as if they would be on their way to New York. Probably very fast, and with some swerving and the slaughter of helpless road signs, like the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign on the edge of town.

end part 6.

Still hopeful, but less confident, Willow walked across the cemetery. Spike's crypt was over there, although why he insisted on having a crypt... If he had always been asking for money, maybe he couldn't afford a nicer place? She'd never thought about how or even if normal vampires used money. Shaking her head, she decided that she had too many thoughts. His crypt was right there, so she carefully opened the door just enough to let her pass into the crypt.

It didn't look like any other crypt that she'd been inside. Working with Buffy, she'd actually amassed far more knowledge of crypts and graves than she'd ever really wanted. This was the first one that held a battered green sofa, and a faded blue recliner. The small table holding the television wasn't quite as unexpected, nor the deck of cards and empty bottles that looked to have held some sort of alcohol. But where was Spike? He had to be here somewhere. Carefully, she looked deeper in the crypt, hoping that he was here.

Reaching the back of the crypt, there was still no sign of Spike beyond the empty bottles and a pair of his boots. She turned around, about to leave the crypt, and there it was, a small opening, a narrow little staircase leading into darkness. She looked at it, part of her certain that Spike had to be below, and another part of her whispering that choosing to go alone and unarmed into the lair of a vampire had to be one of the stupidest things that she'd ever done, even if the vampire was Spike, who couldn't hurt her.

Drawing a breath to calm her nerves, she created a small light, a glowing pale green oval of light about the size of a walnut. Sending the light ahead of her, she began her careful descent, noting that the staircase was not part of the crypt's original construction, but a much more recent addition. The bottom was unfinished concrete, and there were several large support pillars, one of which had a pair of iron manacles dangling from the top, positioned perfectly for chaining someone up. One corner held a stereo and a disorganized pile of CD's that had tipped over to the floor, spreading across in front of the stereo. The far corner held a large bed, the deep red comforter just a few shades darker than blood rumpled into strange shapes over the mattress, and practically glowing from the contrast against the concrete walls. Moving closer, Willow could see that there was a section where the comforter looked as if it simply fell over something, instead of being curled over its own twists.

Her voice seemed to be swallowed up in the deep shadows still left in the room. "Spike? Are you... umm, I'm really hoping that I didn't wander into the wrong crypt."

The comforter shifted, the movement combining with the feeble pale green light to look like ripples over a pool of blood. It moved again, and a pale hand slipped out, oddly reminiscent of some pale, blind spidery hunter in deep caves as it fumbled after the clock on the tiny table near the bed. Seizing the clock and holding it up for a moment before letting it fall with a muffled thump, there was a faint rumbling noise, not quite a growl.

Willow shivered, suddenly disturbed by the morbid twist her mind had taken. Bloody pools and blind cave spiders... she needed to calm down.

"Who's... Red? Do you have any idea what time it is?" Spike's voice, somewhat blurred by lingering sleep emerged from the blankets.

"ummm... Sorry? I didn't mean to wake you up..." She wasn't quite certain how to apologize.

The comforter suddenly leapt away from him, propelled by one pale arm. Spike was there, a great deal of Spike, parts of Spike that she'd ever seen before...

"eep" She closed her eyes, feeling her face burning with embarrassment. Closing her eyes did no good, the image had burned itself very clearly into her mind and memory. She hadn't known that Spike slept naked, but now? It wasn't something that she would forget, and he looked... very, very good that way.

His voice echoed in the room, full of amusement. "I didn't think that I looked that bad, Red. Hope I didn't scar your eyes."

"You're mocking me. I just... didn't expect to see that much of you." She took a breath, trying to calm herself. "I wanted to talk to you about that offer you made. The one where if I had a somewhere to go, you would take me there."

Spike was almost at her elbow, his eyes full of curiosity. "What sort of somewhere do you have?"

Willow gave a small smile. "I got this in the mail. Apparently, Xanatos Enterprises has a position that a Mr. Owen Burnett thinks that I would be perfect for. Full medical and dental, coverage for continued higher education, housing provided or covered, and a 'generous salary'. It's in New York. How's that for a somewhere?"

"What's the catch? Other than the fact that it's across the country. What did the Slayer and the Watcher have to say about it?"

Settling on the edge of the bed, Willow shuffled the papers, looking at them while she organized her thoughts. "I haven't talked to them about it yet. No idea what the catch is either, but I do know they do a lot of research in several areas, like robotics, biological and medical supplies, advanced circuitry and electronics... oh, there's some high end weapon research in there too."

"If you decide to take the job, or to go there and talk about it with someone, I'll drive you. Just tell me if you want to go, this is your choice, not anyone else's." He sounded as if he was already planning something.

She smiled, feeling relieved that there was at least one person supporting her, someone who wouldn't try to make this decision for her. "Thanks. I suppose I should try to figure out which way to go with this. And I should definitely break the news to everyone else."

As he watched her leave, Spike just shook his head. Willow had already made up her mind to go. The decision had probably been made the moment that Tara's deception had been uncovered. Willow wouldn't be staying in Sunnydale. Hopefully, New York would be good to her.

end part 7.

Willow found Buffy, Xander and Giles all gathered at the Magic Box, with Anya working at the register. She felt her throat go tight as she entered the building, remembering how it had spilled out that Tara had just been using her. For a moment, her vision blurred, and she could only see Anya as a blur in a light blue shirt, a blob of darker something for hair. Blinking away the tears, everything focused again. "Anya? Are the others in the back?"

"Of course. Still talking about the Tara thing. I'm rather annoyed... they didn't want to listen to what I had to say and put me put here." There was a bit of frustration in Anya's voice. "Are you going to tell me that you don't care what my opinion on the matter is? Buffy did."

Willow paused, feeling quite curious. Anya had such a different perspective on something from everyone else. "Well, actually, what is your opinion on this? umm, Without the long list of how this relates to various wishes and curses?"

Anya almost visibly brightened, a delighted smile over her face. "Really? You actually want to know?" When she saw Willow nod, she came out from behind the counter to give Willow a quick firm hug before continuing with her words.

"She was using you because she was afraid. And that's the part that hurt you, not the whole demon thing, which it didn't seem like you really got upset about. Other than the keeping it a secret. You feel that she was using you, and it hurts, and makes you feel resentful and angry, and maybe even wanting vengeance... I've seen that before." Anya looked serious, and it was obvious to Willow that Anya was probably thinking over times in the past when she had seen a similar situation develop into a Vengeance assignment for her, or possibly for another Vengeance Demon.

Willow blinked, feeling a bit surprised. "That... sums it up pretty well. She couldn't trust me with the truth, but she wanted to use me to protect herself. It made me feel like nobody really wants me for me, just for what they can get, you know? I mean, I really hope that that isn't how things work, but... worry and fear aren't reasonable."

Looking at Willow, Anya asked another question. "What did you need to tell them? Is it... work related?"

Willow paused, trying to determine how to answer that. "Well, not for Buffy's job. But... I don't know if I can stay here. Everything will remind me of Oz... or now Tara. No, you don't need to curse Tara."

"What would you do if you left? You don't have enough money to leave." Anya looked thoughtful, and a bit worried.

Willow remembered then that Anya had an amazing talent for economics, for business and sales matters. She pulled out the pages again, holding them out for Anya to look at. "I had a job offer. I'm not quite certain what they would want me to do, but..."

Anya glanced over the cover letter, making a little noise at the not so descriptive explanation of the position. "Wow... they are certainly offering quite a lot of perks. And a lot of money. Whatever it is, they really want you to take this job. And New York... how would you get there? It certainly wouldn't have any bad memories, you've never been there."

"I know. Spike said he'd take me there if I want the job. I was going to go back and tell the others about it. It wouldn't be fair to just.. be gone. I mean, if I decide to take it."

Anya just smiled, seeming amused by something that Willow had said. "Good luck with your new career making lots and lots of money."

Willow sighed as she reclaimed the now wrinkled pages and moved towards the back room with the rest of her friends. Willow wondered exactly how everyone would react. As she moved towards the back, she couldn't help but hear what was being said.

"I'm telling you, there had to be some reason why she wanted to stay here! Why does every not so human something show up? The Hellmouth!" Xander's voice was easily identifiable.

"You should realize that we might be a bit hasty in presuming some sort of sinister ulterior motive..." Giles words sounded reasonable, but they were being drowned out and ignored.

"What we need to figure out is what she is and if she's dangerous! Spike's right... oh, God, did I just say that? But he's right. Tara hurt Willow a lot with that, and that doesn't say harmless to me." Buffy sounded angry.

"Can we have Buffy slay her? What's the official policy on part demons?" Xander again, sounding a bit worried.

"We don't even know what sort of demon she's related to!" Giles was sounding more frustrated now.

"Excuse me?" Willow was in the doorway, looking into the room. Giles was standing by the bookshelf, a slender book open in one hand. Xander was leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest while Buffy paced, one hand firmly gripping a stake. Everyone looked over at her when she spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Wills!"

"She didn't cast any spells or anything on you, did she? No demony mind control stuff?"

"Willow, are you alright?"

The words were almost simultaneous, voices overlapping into a nearly indecipherable expression of concern that made Willow smile. "I'm not under any spells. It wasn't your fault. I'm not sure about the alright part. I don't know if I can be in Sunnydale right now. Everything that doesn't remind me of Oz and his leaving is reminding me of Tara, and the way she didn't trust me but tried to use me."

Buffy was suddenly there, her arms around Willow giving her a big hug. "I'm so sorry about all of this. Is there anything that I can do?"

Xander looked at her, his face shocked. "But... but where could you go? How could you leave?"

"Actually, I got a job offer. It would mean leaving Sunnydale and moving to New York." Willow tried to straighten out the papers. "I don't think I can stay here right now, it hurts too much."

Buffy looked as if she wanted to protest, wanted to object. Opening her mouth, she only got as far as "Willow, but you..." Sudden color darkened her face, and Buffy fell silent.

Giles looked at her, his eyes filled with understanding. "Will you be accepting the position?"

Xander looked upset that Giles would even think about Willow leaving. "She can't go! We need Willow, she's our dependable smart person with answers! How will we find information on the computer, or figure out the neat little technical tricks?"

Giles and Willow spent almost an hour trying to convince Xander that there was no reason why Willow couldn't leave if she wanted. Buffy didn't like the idea, that was abundantly clear, but she didn't try to tell Willow that she couldn't go. Considering the way Buffy had run away after the whole mess with Angelus and Acathala, it would have been rather hypocritical.

It only served to convince Willow that she really needed to leave Sunnydale. She needed to go and figure out who she was when she wasn't helping Buffy. Maybe learn what else she could do with her life. Most especially to give her wounded heart a chance to heal.

end part 8.

Willow made her way slowly to her dorm room, chewing on her lip as she thought. Her mind already trying to figure out how much she wanted to take with her, and what to do with the things she didn't want to take. She would most definitely want her computer, and the chest that held her magical supplies and the few weapons that she owned. She didn't need to take all of her clothing, and there had to be somewhere... yes, she could drop most of the rest off at a Salvation Army collection box. She didn't have that many books to take with her, she could probably fit them into a couple boxes... It was actually a bit sad that her life could be packed up so easily.

"Keep that up and you'll draw blood." Spike's voice distracted her from her thoughts.

Willow jumped, startled by his voice. "Hey... I didn't... wasn't paying attention very well, was I?"

"That could get you killed, especially in a place like this. So, how did your talk with the rest of them go?

Willow's voice was almost amused. "Anya's delighted. She says this looks like a great opportunity, and if this Owen Burnett can offer such a nice benefits package, they must really want me. Giles hmm'd, and I could tell that he was worried, but I think he understands why I can't stay in Sunnydale. Xander flipped, Buffy didn't want me to go either, but she didn't try to tell me that she couldn't. It would have been rather hypocritical of her. I was just trying to figure out what to take with me."

Spike nodded, apparently not surprised that Giles would understand. Looking over with a curious expression, he asked another question. "Why didn't Buffy say anything? What stopped her?"

Willow gave a half smile. "You remember the whole thing when... Angel wasn't himself and got... rather excessively out of hand?" Willow chose her words carefully, mindful of all the other students around them, students that didn't know about vampires, demons, and the almost end of the world.

Spike's voice was rather dry. "I remember. I had that nasty fall not to long before that. How's that connect?"

Willow's voice sounded a bit bitter as she remembered the whole nightmare of Acathala. "You weren't there for the dramatic end of the scene. We had to piece everything together after the fact, but... They fought, Buffy won, because, hey, still here. But she didn't go home, or maybe just to pack. She was gone, and we found out later that she'd run away to somewhere, I think Los Angeles. She was away the whole summer, didn't come back until a bit into senior year. That's why she didn't tell me that I couldn't leave. Besides, it's not like I'm running out on any big responsibilities..."

Spike winced. "Oh, that's not very... You and Harris took it hard, didn't you? So, she didn't say you couldn't go because at least you're planning to leave a forwarding address?"

"Something like. I only stayed here this long to help my friends... I haven't got any big duties holding me here. Or family ties. umm, how big's the trunk of your car?"

Spike grinned, an expression full of dark humor. "Red, my car has a trunk big enough to put three or four bodies into, if they aren't too big. I'm sure we can fit all your stuff inside."

She nodded as she unlocked her door. "That's good to know." She opened it, stepping into the room, and after those few moments, she looked back at him, her eyes suddenly troubled. "You were joking about the bodies, right? I mean, it was hypothetical?"

He only smiled at her, choosing not to answer about the possibility of having put bodies into his car. "I'll make sure it's all cleaned out."

Willow only shook her head as he left. Hopefully he was teasing her, well, she knew he was teasing, but she could hope that he was only talking about bodies in the trunk to unsettle her. To remember the nights when he was the Big Bad, before the chip. The chip had changed him a lot, and not just because he couldn't hurt people any more. It wouldn't have done more than force him not to cause physical injury. Spike was devious and creative, if he'd really wanted to get rid of them, he would have been able to, chip or no chip.

But he didn't want anyone to know that he'd changed. To know that he wasn't just a bloodthirsty predator, although Willow doubted that he'd ever been JUST a bloodthirsty hunter in the darkness. He cared, passionately about things, like Dru, the continued existence of the world, and his enjoyment of the soap opera Passions. Spike was a lot more human than most vampires, which didn't automatically make him safe, just more than a near mindless killer. She'd seen some rather ugly things done by humans, and history class was full of more ugliness, done by humans to other humans. No, being human definitely didn't mean being nice or safe.

She was going to be setting off across the country, headed for New York to talk to someone about a mysterious position that hadn't been explained, but that Mr. Burnett thought that she'd be perfect for, in a car with Spike. She was leaving everything that she knew, her home town, her friends, her family, well, her town and friends at least, and traveling alone to New York with Spike. Maybe she needed to get her head examined.

Shaking her head, Willow glanced out her window. Frowning, she peered closer. Had she just seen two winged shapes go across the moon? Had she seen gargoyles in Sunnydale, again? A small smile crossed her face at the idea. Sunnydale needed all the protectors that it could get.

Willow suddenly frowned as she remembered Tara's brother earlier in the week. He'd said he was a Quarryman, well, not exactly said, but he wore a QuarryMan shirt and sounded like he fell in with their agenda. He had said that Gargoyles were evil and dangerous, said it in front of Buffy, who's destiny was to fight and kill dangerous evil things. What if Buffy thought that the gargoyles were dangerous? Willow sighed and picked up the dorm phone, dialing the number for the Magic Box.

The phone was answered by Anya, her voice sounding a bit distracted. "This is the Magic Box. We're closed now, but you can arrive promptly at eight in the morning when we open."

"Anya? Is Buffy still there? And Giles? I was thinking, about that guy, Tara's brother. The one in the Quarrymen shirt." Willow's voice betrayed some of her impatience.

"Willow. Are you going to go take the job? Will you send me a postcard from New York? Buffy and Giles are practicing with swords now, and the Quarryman was an idiot. If I still had my powers, I'd curse him to have festering boils filled with puss all over his body."

Willow's mind spun a bit at Anya's graphic imagery. "Umm, gross image. Not that he didn't sound like he'd deserve it, but eeeuuuww. Can you tell Buffy that the Gargoyles..."

Anya cut Willow off. "Gargoyles aren't evil. I've known about them since I was human the first time, and they were never evil. They keep places safe, and fight nasty things that humans can't. And if I find out about you or anyone else here trying to hunt any down and get rid of them, I'll... I'll... I'll have to come up with something extra nasty."

Willow felt stunned for a moment, both by Anya's fiercely protective reaction and the morbid question of what could be so terrible that Anya couldn't immediately think of it? "Umm... that's not what I was going to say. I wanted to say that I think there are some gargoyles near Sunnydale, and someone should make certain that Buffy knows they aren't evil. Because, you know, Slayer."

"Oh. In that case, I can take care of that with no problem. So, are you taking that job?" Anya sounded much happier now.

Willow sighed. "I'm going to go to New York and find out a bit more about the job first. But... I'm considering it. Thing is, Spike's driving, which has me a little concerned."

Anya's laughter carried over the line. "Spike's told me all about his previous evil days. He's never killed anyone by running over them with a car or by being involved in a traffic accident. You should be perfectly safe."

Willow could feel herself smiling. "That's reassuring. Now I just hope that his music doesn't drive me into a nervous breakdown, that the job is actually legal, and that I can find somewhere to live in New York. Oh, no problems at all... Thanks Anya."

She was still smiling as she went to bed. She dreamed of dancing gargoyles in Times Square, and shimmering Christmas lights reflecting on a glimmering coat of ice. Spike was sitting on a bench watching, cigarette in hand, and he looked over at her before speaking. 'Welcome to the night, Red. Welcome to the future.'

end part 9.

Willow finished her packing in the morning, surveying the lonely looking room. She hadn't actually had that much to take down, but it seemed to make a huge difference. Her things from the dorm made a small collection, and most of it was books, magical supplies and weapons, and her computer things. Frowning, she made a brief trip to her parents' house to see if there was anything there that she wanted. That only added another small bag of things. If she accepted the position, she would definitely need to buy more clothing, especially professional clothing. She sighed, wondering how it was that she had only a small collection of things and enough memories to give a normal person screaming nightmares for years.

She was still sitting there thinking things over when Spike arrived. He tapped on the door, opening it when there was no response, revealing Willow sitting on one of the narrow beds, her eyes towards a small pile of luggage, but something about her expression suggested that she wasn't really looking at the luggage. She also seemed to be unaware of his presence, lost in some sort of melancholy thoughts.

"What did I tell you about not paying attention to your surroundings? Is that all the things you want to take?" Spike's voice sounded amused.

Willow shook her head, as if something were bothering her. "That and enough memories to make a psychoanalyst into a millionaire. Surprisingly few physical scars though. I would have expected a few more considering everything...But I guess the emotional ones are the sort that cause the most damage anyhow."

Spike winced, well acquainted with emotional scars in his own existence. "So, does this mean we're going shopping once we get to New York? Considering that this isn't a big wardrobe, and I'm sure you'll want furniture."

A small grin touched Willow's lips. "Sure. We can go shopping, and you can help me pick good colors for my skin tone. Shall we start taking these to the car?"

Their trip across America started that night. Willow wasn't surprised when Spike ran over the 'Welcome to Sunnydale/Now Leaving Sunnydale' sign as they left town. It didn't surprise her that he didn't wear a seat belt, considered speed limits to be suggestions, and smoked while driving.

She was pleasantly surprised that while he did play his music loudly, it wasn't actually bad, and she even found herself enjoying quite a few of them. Spike sang along with many of his favorite songs, with varying degrees of accuracy. Some of them sounded very good, and others, well, sometimes Spike's singing just wasn't very close to the actual performance. It was oddly endearing, especially since when Willow occasionally sang along with a song that she knew, her own voice was frequently rather far from the actual singer's. She loved to sing, she just wasn't terribly good at it. Spike had teased her a little, grinning at her when she countered by pointing out some of his own 'improvised melodies'.

The trip practically flew by, and that wasn't entirely due to the speed that Spike drove at. They occasionally found places where there was nothing of interest on the radio, and so they talked, about life, about love and all its painful failings, and about hopes and dreams. They were bonding, and learning more about each other. It was actually good for them both, learning more about each other, feeling that there was someone who could listen to their innermost secrets and not judge them. It was a refreshing feeling for them both.

It felt like barely more than a few days before they arrived in New York. Spike found them a hotel, not too expensive but more important to Spike, somewhere that didn't have much direct sunlight and didn't ask questions. The clerk looked human, but the cleaning person that they passed looked a bit... off. Nothing specific, but she just didn't look quite human to Willow. She had simply shrugged, confident that Spike wouldn't lead her to a place where she would be attacked. All she would have to do would be go out, buy something that she could interview for a corporate position in, and set up an interview with Mr. Burnett. For this position that he thought she would be perfect for. Willow had numerous doubts and suspicion about the job, but not enough to keep her from learning more about it.

She ended up starting her shopping without Spike, needing the daylight hours while he would sleep. The sooner she found something appropriate to wear, the sooner she could set up an interview, the better her chances that the position wouldn't already be filled.

After several hours of searching for the right sort of stores, and looking for things that she might be able to wear, she happened upon a store with the right sort of clothing. It made her feel a bit more confident that there was another red haired woman in the store, a tall, muscular woman with almost wild hair and the sort of confident and almost predatory movements that made Willow think of Slayers or vampires, except that Buffy and Faith were both alive, and the sunlight streaming into the store meant that the woman couldn't be a vampire.

Willow ended up leaving the store with a grey and a dark green version of the suit that the other redhead was wearing, and several light colored shirts. It had come to an appalling total, one that had made Willow wince inside. But she knew that without proper clothing, normal businesses wouldn't even consider a person for a position, regardless of impeccable credentials, which hers definitely weren't. Besides, whoever Ms. Destine was, she definitely knew how to dress for corporate success.

Spike was awake by the time she returned to the hotel, pacing the hallway impatiently, a lit cigarette clenched in his mouth, and his eyes flickering from blue to golden. He looked unhappy, and tense. Willow thought that just maybe he had been worried.

"Hey... I found a suit. I hope you didn't fret too much, I thought that you could use the rest after our trip." Her words were spoken softly, with the utter confidence that he would hear her.

"You could have been hurt. This isn't the safest city, Willow." Spike's voice held a bit of a growl, and anyone that hadn't got to know him would think that he was threatening her.

She sighed, knowing that he was right. "I know, but... I did stay in the nicer shopping areas, where there were plenty of people. I learned enough that I should be okay against a would be purse snatcher, and... I don't think I can afford to wait. What if the position has already been filled? What if I'm not what they need after all? I can't stay here without a job... and jobs don't just wait until you've had time to get every detail."

He just growled a bit, running his fingers through his hair, mussing the smooth pale locks. "I suppose... So, you have everything that you need now? No more sudden shopping trips?"

"I still need to call and set up an interview. I think I have everything that I need until I get the job, whatever the job is. Now, I should go inside and call to set this thing up..." Her voice trailed off, and she felt her stomach fluttering from pure nervousness.

Spike nodded even as he put one arm behind her back and began propelling her back to their room. "Right, go make your phone call, set up this interview, get the job. I've been trying to get some information about possible apartments. After all, we can't stay in a hotel room forever..." His voice trailed off as if an unpleasant thought had occurred.

Willow paused, glancing at him as he fumbled with the keycard. Spike seemed a bit upset at some thought that had occurred to him. It had been right after he'd mentioned an apartment... Was he worried about her being on her own, or about himself being on his own? She considered the possibilities as he unlocked the door and pulled her into the room with him.

"Spike? Would you want... I mean, maybe you could share the apartment with me? Like you said, New York is a dangerous city, I could be in more danger living alone. I wouldn't want to impose or anything..." She offered the question a bit nervously, hoping that he wouldn't get upset, hoping that she had read him correctly.

He looked at her, as if trying to read into her soul. "You really mean it? You wouldn't mind having me live with you... unlive... whatever."

She sank onto the couch with a smile. "Really. I mean, I hope you don't leave all your clothing on the floor like Xander, or leave a huge mess all over the dresser tops like Buffy... And I would really hope that you rinse your mugs after you use them. But I've had fun on the trip out here. And I've spent a lot of time living all by myself, even if I wasn't responsible for the bills before, and it's not the greatest thing. It's actually rather... I get lonely all by myself. And maybe you wouldn't be too lonely either."

His next words were rather unconvincing, especially with the big smile that was on his face. "I'm the big bad, I don't get lonely." He shuffled his feet a bit, and then in a more ordinary tone spoke again. "So... you need to call that Mr. Burns guy and set up an interview."

"Burnett, not Burns... and I have my letter right here." Her eyes were sparkling with barely restrained laughter, and Willow knew that this would turn out alright. Somehow, everything would be good.

end part 10.

It didn't take Willow very long to find the letter, or to place one slightly trembling finger by the contact number for Mr. Owen Burnett. She took a deep breath to try to inspire confidence, and carefully dialed the number, hoping that her voice would be steady when she spoke to whoever picked up.

:Hello? This is Owen Burnett of Xanatos Enterprises.: The voice on the other end was a man's voice, his precise words carrying no emotion. Despite that, his voice was a fairly pleasant tenor.

"This is Willow Rosenberg. You sent me a letter that stated there was a position that I might be qualified for? I was wondering if I could schedule an interview, or if the position had already been filled." Her voice didn't shake.

:The position is still open. Would Friday at two o'clock in the afternoon be acceptable? At the Xanatos Enterprises tower, the address should be included in your letter, in conference room three.:

"Friday at two, at the Xanatos Building... that's the one with the castle on the top? Conference room three... I can do that. I do have a few questions about the position... Will they be answered at the interview?" Willow nodded to herself, fully aware that Mr. Burnett couldn't see the gesture. If she could learn some more about this mysterious position...

:Of course your questions will be answered. However, there is a policy to attempt to keep the various projects and related activities confidential. I will have to ask you to sign a paper that you will not divulge any information to the media or potential business rivals.: The voice sounded cautious now, as if there had been serious problems with rivals in the past.

"That sounds pretty reasonable. I'll make a list of my questions, and I will be there at two." Willow felt anticipation and hope flutter inside her chest. The position hadn't been filled, she had an interview.

:I shall look forward to it. Good day, Miss Rosenberg.: The phone was hung up with a soft click.

Carefully, Willow placed the receiver back on the phone, and stood up with a smile. "YES! I got an interview, the position hasn't been filled."

Spike looked over, a small smile hovering on his lips. "You seem to be in a good mood about that. Too bad I can't go with you to the interview."

"I want a job, I need a job, I don't want to ever HAVE to go back to Sunnydale. I don't want to depend on my parents remembering that they have a child. I want to be financially independent, to not have to live in someone else's shadow anymore."

"Makes perfect sense to me. But if you don't keep your joyful noises down, people are going to start getting their own ideas about what we're doing in here." It was all he could do not to laugh at her suddenly crimson face and the small 'eep' that emerged as she sank back onto the couch.

end part 11.

Willow was very nervous by the time Friday rolled around. She had a page full of questions about the mysterious position, and was eager to have them answered. She had also used her computer to send everyone in Sunnydale an email to let them know that she had got here safely.

There were local news stations mentioning Gargoyles. They had been sighted in the air, and people were alarmed and confused. There had been interviews with QuarryMen, who had claimed that the Gargoyles were evil and a danger to the city. Some people agreed, citing several examples of vast property damage, although Willow and Spike had both thought it looked to have involved explosives rather than claws. Some people supported the idea of gargoyles, claiming that people should befriend them. There were also some scientists who had stated very carefully that 'if such creatures did exist, it would be of great interest to the scientific community, and they would be very interested in the study of these so called Gargoyles.' Willow wasn't quite certain what to think of that, remembering the Initiative's version of 'studying' demons.

Spike had had a few rather sharp things to say about both the scientists and the QuarryMen, things that had left him sitting in the corner holding his head in pain. Willow had felt so terrible for him that she had offered to try a spell to help with the pain. It didn't make it all go away, but reduced it from 'the mother of all lightning storms battling a rock drummer' to a simple 'stabbing headache'. He looked like it was a drastic improvement.

Nervously, Willow dressed in the grey suit, complete with the leather pumps that she'd picked up. She had managed to convince her hair to do something semi serious looking, and applied a very small bit of makeup, a hint of blush to give some color over cheeks pale from nervous, and some eyeliner. Walking over, she touched Spike's shoulder.

"Spike? I have to go for my interview now. I don't know how long it will take." She didn't want to worry him, so she also left a note saying the same thing, 'going to interview, not sure how long it will last. - Willow'.

She caught a cab to the Xanatos Enterprises tower, and fretted the whole way, hoping that she would look professional enough, hoping that she was qualified, and wondering exactly what they wanted her to do anyhow. She was so nervous that her stomach was fluttering and her hands were shaking. Eventually, the cab dropped her off at the base of a huge sky-scraper.

It didn't take long to gather her courage and go inside, and the sleek looking receptionist gave her directions to find conference room three. The high speed elevator ride didn't help her stomach any, but the directions were good, and she found conference room three. It was of a size to hold maybe a dozen people around the polished dark table, and the walls were lined with dark paneled wood. Most people would probably find it intimidating, but it reminded Willow of the old high school library, only without the books. She settled into a chair, placing the briefcase with her letter and the pad of paper with her questions on the table in front of her, almost like a shield against the world.

Willow had finally managed to calm herself to the point where she was no longer shaking when the door opened. A blond man in a pale grey suit walked in, his suit immaculately pressed. His pale blond hair was short and neat, and he had wire rimmed glasses over eyes the color of a winter sky. She stood up, mentally thanking whatever power watched out for her that she hadn't jumped or squeaked when he'd come inside.

"Miss Rosenberg? I am Owen Burnett." He held out a hand for her to shake, after which he settled into the chair across the table from her.

"Pleased to meet you." Willow's voice only shook a little, and it calmed her a bit that she recognized his voice from the phone call.

Settling himself, he pulled out several sheaves of papers, including a slender stack that he slid over to Willow. "I'd appreciate you signing the non-disclosure agreement, and there is a proposed benefits package for you to examine. After I have the signed non-disclosure form, I can start to answer your questions."

Willow read very carefully over the pages before signing, relieved to see that they were nothing more than a written promise not to reveal any business information to the media or to competitive businesses. Smiling slightly, she signed the page and slid it back to Mr. Burnett. "I guess my first question is what area is the position in? The letter didn't say, only that you felt that I would be qualified. Is it marketing, research, accounting... I'm a bit curious what sort of thing I would be doing. If I were to accept and be hired and all."

Mr. Burnett shifted his glasses slightly before answering. "There are a number of individuals that Mr. Xanatos feels... a measure of responsibility for. Some of these individuals are... unable to go through the public school system, and it was suggested that he find them an alternative education."

Wheels starting to turn in her head, Willow looked at him. "Surely your investigation made you aware that I do not have the required degree in education to be a qualified teacher. Since I'm certain there must be thousands of people in New York with degrees in education, I have to ask why me?"

Looking at her, he nodded, as if she had just confirmed something for him. "I am aware that you temporarily instructed a class at your high school after the death of the computer teacher. This is practical experience that would be very useful. But you are correct, you do not have a degree. That is why Xanatos Enterprises is willing to pay for your continuing college education, provided that you maintain at least a C average."

Willow got the feeling that he wasn't ready to tell her yet exactly why the people in question needed a special teacher. "There is something here about housing... could you elaborate? Does that mean there are... official Xanatos apartments for employees?"

He chuckled slightly. "No, although we might want to consider the idea. We will pay for or reimburse you for a suitable residence. Most likely an apartment."

Remembering Spike, Willow gave a small smile. "The city is a lot bigger than Sunnydale, and it makes me a bit nervous. Would it be a problem if I had someone else living with me in this apartment?"

"That shouldn't be a problem, although we might ask your room mate to sign a non-disclosure agreement as well, just to be cautious."

The discussion continued in that manner for well over two hours, Willow bringing up a point over the benefits and Mr. Burnett explaining. The longer this went on, the more appealing the benefits were. It sounded as if she was being asked to teach some basic reading, without the emphasis on classical literature, and to cover a moderate amount of history and practical mathematics. Nothing was said about standardized testing. Willow was now almost certain that if it wasn't the actual job requirements or duties that was the potential problem, it must be the students. There was something about the students that he was expecting her to freak about, and he was reluctant to bring it up, or he was waiting for something.

end part 12.

Due to the lack of windows in the conference room, Willow didn't notice when the sun set. She also had no way of knowing that as the sun sank below the horizon, a handful of gargoyles awoke from their stone sleep on the castle. But David Xanatos was there, waiting and watching with a small smile of anticipation.

"You have no idea how impressive that looks. I'll have to have it taped at some point so you can watch." His voice carried easily.

The leader of the gargoyles, a large lavender male called Goliath looked at him, a small expression of dismay crossing his humanlike features. When he spoke, his deep voice held a small hint of a rumble, not quite a growl. "Xanatos. What brings you here at this time?"

"I understand that there is a bit of a complication in the education of the clones. I have a solution. Owen is currently interviewing a potential teacher for them if you want to see."

"Humans don't do very well with gargoyles. Why would this one be willing to teach the clones?" Bitterness was clear in the voice of the new speaker, the beaked red gargoyle that had taken the name Brooklyn.

"Partly because I'm willing to offer a generous salary and benefits. If you're worried, either of you, why don't you come downstairs and meet her?" Xanatos had a slightly smug expression, as if he was looking forward to something.

"I would be interested in meeting this person, especially if they are truly willing to help the clones." Goliath's rumble sounded far more thoughtful this time.

With a shrug, Brooklyn moved closer as well. "What's to lose? Might as well meet this person."

They would have been an interesting sight for anyone that happened to observe them as they walked into the castle, or emerged from the elevator to head for the conference room where Owen was interviewing someone. Xanatos was looking pleased with himself, and Brooklyn was muttering doubts and concerns as he followed into the office tower, a place that was wholly formed from modern technology.

Xanatos opened the door right in time to hear the young woman say "Mr. Burnett, I think it would be no surprise to you that I have to admit the benefits are impressive. But... exactly what have you been carefully not telling me about these people that need an education?"

It was too perfect of an opportunity to pass up. "Are you aware that humans are not the only intelligent species on this planet Miss Rosenberg?"

Startled, the red haired woman looked away from Owen to face the door, where she saw him and the two Gargoyles. Her eyes widened and her mouth shaped an 'oh' of surprise as she rose to her feet. Her expression showed no fear, only surprise. "Gargoyles..."

Xanatos frowned a bit, feeling a bit let down. "I would have expected a bit more..."

Brooklyn moved into the room, looking at the redhead with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "You don't work in the entertainment industry do you?"

"Entertainment?" Puzzlement flickered over her face before she shook her head. "No. I'm a college student. But... I've seen gargoyles before."

Her words left the room in stunned silence so thick that it was almost amazing that anyone still moved. Xanatos stared at Owen, seeing that his second was every bit as surprised as he was.

"Other gargoyles? Where? When?" Goliath's rumbling voice held a blend of hope and concern.

She gave a small smile. "I was a child at the time, and it was in California. A pair of gargoyles saved me from... I guess you might say a mad dog. The male was green, and he sort of reminded me of a lion, and the female was bronze with red hair... One of my friends saw what had to have been a blue gargoyle a few weeks ago, but she didn't know what to call him."

"There are gargoyles... in California?" He sounded stunned.

"Allow me to perform belated introductions. This is Mr. Xanatos. The large gargoyle is Goliath, the red one is Brooklyn. Gentlemen, this is Willow Rosenberg." Owen's voice carried a faint note of something that they couldn't quite place.

Willow smiled brightly, and offered her hand to the nearest person, who happened to be Brooklyn. "Nice to meet you. I guess... I'm supposed to be teaching? And yes, there were gargoyles in Sunnydale, and I was pretty sure I saw something flying there right before I left."

Brooklyn spoke, his voice oddly nervous. "You'll teach our kind? You aren't afraid..."

There was sorrow in Willow's eyes as she spoke again. "I learned a long time ago that gargoyles protect. More recently, I learned that it isn't what's outside that makes someone a monster, it's what's inside. And some of the scary types aren't so scary once you get to know them. Are there any other surprises that I should know about?"

"Talon and the other mutates."

"Mutates? What happened... never mind. What was altered?" Willow looked as if part of her mind was already racing ahead.

Xanatos suddenly looked less stunned and more businesslike. "The actual work was done by Anton Sevarious, and their entire physical appearance was altered. They resemble humanoid cats with large wings. And yes, they have tails."

"Oh good... the last mutated people I ran into had fishy scales and... there was much badness. But I'm sure you don't want to hear about that." She actually looked relieved.

Xanatos found himself laughing, entirely unable to predict what Willow would say next, or how she would react. "I think you'll do just fine with us, Miss Rosenberg. Welcome aboard."

end part 13.

End Meetings, the first chapter of Wings in the Night.


	3. Laying the Groundwork

Author: Lucinda

rating: pg 13

Pairing: none yet, Willow/Spike friendship

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or Disney's Gargoyles

Distribution: Bite Me, WLS, NHA, WWW, Twisting the Hellmouth - anyone else please ask first.

note: Things diverged in S4, slightly altered. This means Tara, who was NOT dating Willow, and was trying to use Willow & Co to hide from her family. Willow & Spike have now moved to New York, where Willow accepted a position from Mr. David Xanatos as a teacher for a somewhat unusual group of students.

..

Willow sighed, reading over the various handbooks and guides for the benefits offered by Xanatos Enterprises to all of their employees. She was now an employee, with a generous salary. Part of that generosity was supposed to ensure her silence. She would be a teacher, and her students were a group of cloned gargoyles living underneath the city in a series of probably illegal tunnels. Apparently, she could leave the hellmouth, but not the strangeness of her life.

As she started to make a list of the things that she would need, thankful that business formal wasn't required, it occurred to her that she couldn't possibly begin making lesson plans and supply lists without a better idea what the clones already knew or didn't know. She would have to go meet them, learn a bit more about them before she could do her shopping. And they'd even given her a card for an expense account, saying that as long as the things that she purchased with it were for the education or benefit of the clones, there was no limit.

Lifting the phone of the hotel room, she glanced over to Spike, who was currently looking through a book on apartments to find a few possibilities for where they could stay. Carefully, she dialed the contact number for Owen Burnett, not terribly surprised to get his voice mail. "Yes, this is Willow Rosenberg. It's occurred to me that I will need to have a better idea of the current educational levels of my students and any particular special needs before I can get more than a basic level of shopping done. I was hoping that you could arrange for someone to introduce me to them, and I could then get more of an idea? Anyhow, you have the hotel number, so I would appreciate it if you could arrange something. Thank you very much, and umm... I guess that's it."

"Smooth, red." Spike's drawl was only a little teasing, and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

Willow shrugged, grinning at him. "I don't like talking to answering machines or voice mail. It just feels weird."

"Not too unusual. Think I can go with when you go meet those people? They already had me sign those pages of legal garbage." He glared at the page, flipping to the next one with the sound of tearing paper.

"If he arranges it to be after dark, sure. Which I'd think he would have to, since gargoyles, daytime... not too compatible. But I wouldn't want you to get all scorched to go with me." Willow frowned, wondering how Spike would manage everything in New York. "Spike? What about... I mean, how will you get your blood?"

Letting the apartment guide fall with a sigh, he looked at her. "That's a lot easier here than in Sunnyhell. The problem is finding an apartment. Somewhere safe for you, and not too sunny for me. Available nowish. Without being able to kill someone for it."

She winced, not quite willing to think about how literal that might be. Spike was a vampire, he killed people… or he had until he'd gotten that chip. The chip that was the only reason that she was still alive. "Oh. Umm… maybe some of the more regular apartment buildings have a basement apartment? Mom said something once about living in a basement just after she and dad got married… There has to be something."

Spike suddenly froze. "Something… I bought a place here, back in the seventies. Dru was afraid the rats in the warehouses would eat her dolls… I should still own the damn thing. Might need a bit of work, but… Here, give me the phone."

He made a series of phone calls, speaking several different languages other than English. She recognized French, Spanish, and this one demon language, but wasn't quite certain how things were going. Peeking, she saw that Spike had a determined expression, one that told her that he was making some progress, but wasn't done yet.

Willow sighed and got back to making her list. Writing supplies, art supplies, hmm… let's skip the music and gym class, oh, a computer! Yes, definitely a computer, and some educational software… She started making a list of the sort of software, and the capabilities that she would want from the computer.

Spike's laughter startled her from her thoughts. "Bloody bastard… this is just too damn good."

"umm… I take it there was something useful?" Willow asked softly, not quite certain of Spike's mood.

"The house that I bought has been converted into a demon apartment. I own a bloody apartment building, and here I've been flipping through the bloody pages. Got a nice big set of rooms on the third floor that we'll be moving into, and nobody will bother you." Spike grinned, looking far too amused. "Remind me to talk to Greg about where all the rent money's been going."

She just shook her head, leaning back in the chair. Spike owned a demon apartment building. Where she would be living… with Spike. It seemed almost unreal. "So… this time, the landlord really is a ruthless cold blooded guy?"

"Bite your tongue, witch! That's not the sort of thing I want people finding out about. Ruin my reputation…" Spike tossed a pillow at her, eyes sparkling with laughter.

End part 1.

Spike had finished placing his order with room service, requesting three pints of blood for himself, and an order of Parmesian Chicken with a side salad for Willow. He was waiting for the food to arrive, gleefully congratulating himself of having bought that building and the idea of ordering his food a bit earlier, hoping that the kitchen wouldn't be terribly busy, then they could get their food quickly.

The phone rang, and Willow picked it up, being closer than Spike, who was still congratulating himself on his foresight, which may have actually been nothing more than not bothering to think of the property after leaving the area. "Hello?"

:Miss Rosenberg. You mentioned a desire to meet your students in order to evaluate their current educational levels? I believe we have made an acceptable arrangement. If it would be acceptable to have a car stop by your hotel tonight at nine?: The voice of Owen Burnett was calm, as if he talked about hiring tutors for gargoyles every day. But then, Sunnydale didn't have the only strangeness in the world, maybe he did deal with bizarre things often.

"Yes, that should be good." Willow smiled, hoping that things continued to go this smoothly.

:Excellent. I suggest that you wear something… casual. The area where they live is not particularly well suited to business wear.: There was a faint impression of dismay from his voice.

"I can do that. Umm… My room-mate will want to go along, out of concern for my safety. I can assure you that he won't have a problem with my students." Willow remembered Spike, and wondered what Mr. Burnett would think about that.

:Just be certain that he doesn't cause any problems. We will see you at nine.: There was a small click, and the conversation was over.

Willow shook her head, wondering if Owen Burnett ever did things casually. Read his paper in a bathrobe or something? "Hey Spike? Tonight, at nine we get a lift to go meet my future students. He said something about dressing casual, which will be much easier… Want to go with?"

"Silly girl, didn't I already say that I did? He grinned at her, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "But let's have dinner, shall we?"

It didn't even occur to Willow until she was making certain that the last napkin had indeed made its way into the trash that most people would consider having dinner with someone drinking blood wasn't normal. That most people would be freaking out. But this was normal for her, for her life. And somehow, she didn't think that Spike would be a danger to her even if the chip did come out. To other people, maybe… probably. But not her.

They were waiting in the lobby area before nine. Granted that Spike still looked somewhat dangerous even without his duster, they had both gone for casual jeans and shirts. The van that pulled up didn't look out of place, although the incredibly stiff figure of Owen Burnett, dressed in a pair of slacks and a long sleeved shirt did. Apparently, Owen couldn't manage 'casual'. He looked at them, shaking his head slightly. "Miss Rosenberg, and this, I presume, is Mr. Ashton? Please get into the van."

In the van, there was an unhappy looking dark haired woman with a red jacket on. Something about her just… she couldn't possibly be an employee of Xanatos Enterprises. There was also another gargoyle, looking a bit uncomfortable in the van. His hair and beard were the sort of gray that comes from old age, and he had a scar over one eye.

The gargoyle looked at her, his expression evaluating. "I thought teachers were generally a bit older. You can't be very old, lass."

Willow sighed, sitting down on one of the side seats, the arrangement allowing the gargoyle to crouch inside the middle of the van. "I haven't finished college, if that's what you're wondering. I was picked more because I wouldn't freak out than for a vast education. I'm Willow, and this is Spike. What should I call you two?"

"I'm called Hudson, after the river. This is Eliza, a friend of the Clan." There was an audible capitol on the word Clan, and he smiled at Eliza with definite friendship.

"Why exactly are Xanatos and Owen so certain that you won't freak out?" Eliza's voice held what had to be a distrust of Xanatos. Maybe she didn't trust Willow either?

"I guess that Owen, umm, Mr. Burnett did a little research into Sunnydale, California. That's where I came from… And I've met gargoyles before. That part seemed to surprise him though…" Willow sighed, leaning a bit against Spike.

"Not too many around anymore, Red." Spike's voice was calm, as if he was trying to help Willow keep calm as well. His hand rubbed little circles over her ribs, which tickled slightly.

"California has gargoyles?" Eliza looked astounded, and Hudson just nodded. Probably Goliath and Brooklyn had told him about her comment.

"A few of them. I don't know how many… I only got to talk with one of them, years ago. She… they saved me. But one of the things that she said was that gargoyles protect." Willow could feel herself remembering the pair of gargoyles, and as always, wondered what had happened. "At the time, I thought that she was the most beautiful person that I'd ever seen. And she had red hair, sort of like mine."

"Red hair?" Eliza and Hudson exchanged worried looks. "What color was her skin?"

Willow looked at them, wondering why they seemed so worried all of a sudden. Was there something wrong with a red haired gargoyle? Neither Goliath or Brooklyn had red hair… "She was sort of bronze colored. With a pair of horns. And her mate… I think he was her mate, she was giving him sort of sweet looks… but he was all green, with a head like a lion. Why? Are red haired gargoyles… is there something to worry about?"

"Nay lass, there's naught to worry yourself about. There's just a few particular gargoyles that we've had… arguments with. One of them is a red haired blue female, the other's a charcoal male with white hair… looks a bit like Goliath. They can be a bit dangerous." Hudson looked as if he was deep in thought. "Demona and Thailog… they can be tricky."

"Didn't think gargoyles could go bad. Or is it just a very intense argument?" Spike's question was soft, and he was frowning.

"Demona… let's just say that she thinks humans are too dangerous to the gargoyles. As for Thailog… that's an entirely different matter. He was created by Sevarius to cause trouble, and he succeeded far too well." Hudson sighed, glancing at the window. "One of the things that Thailog did was have the clones created… and he didn't worry about teaching them more than 'obey Thailog'. Now that he's gone… well, someone has to teach them."

Willow sighed, closing her eyes as she pondered the web of tangled emotions and plots that she had just dropped herself into. "Wonderful… cloning scientists and would be world conquering gargoyles. Here I was thinking I'd just have to worry about finding an apartment and proper grammar…"

Eliza laughed, her words full of amusement. "That would be much simpler, wouldn't it?"

Leaning against Spike, Willow had the momentary question – would her life ever be normal? Considering that she was a witch, leaning against a vampire, on her way to meet a group of cloned gargoyles… Probably not. But it should be interesting. Hopefully, that wouldn't translate to 'interesting, but short'.

End part 2.

The van came to a halt, and Owen began leading the way to an old subway entrance. It looked nearly abandoned, with words and symbols painted over the walls as high as could be reached, and bottles and papers littering the floor, along with water stains, dirt, and some puddles of brownish liquid that Willow didn't want to identify or step in. Owen looked less than delighted to be here, and Willow began to wonder exactly where these students of hers were going to be.

They followed the subway track for a ways, climbing up at a narrow ladder to a somewhat rusted door, bearing faded paint that proclaimed 'Auth ized Person l On'. Hudson opened the door, which didn't make a single noise, despite its rusted appearance. This new hallway was still a bit worse for wear, the concrete showing some cracks and water stains, but it was clean. They walked a bit farther, making two turns before it opened into a hall that was as large as the meeting room where she'd had her interview. A few people were waiting, and in the front… oh my.

Willow found herself swallowing nervously, and stopped, her hand seeking Spike. Looking right at the group was what Willow could only describe as a six foot humanoid panther with bat like wings. Eliza walked over to the cat man, smiling cheerfully. Giving him a hug, she spoke, her words completely astonishing Willow. "Good to see you, big brother."

Willow glanced over at Owen. "I'm assuming that he's one of the mutates that you mentioned? He's… big."

"Talon's a good man, lass, he's not a danger to anyone who's not out for trouble." Hudson's voice offered a reassurance. "He's just been busy trying to keep everything running smoothly down here."

Willow nodded, seeing the logic to that. There was no sense in being cowardly, and she might as well try to make at least a halfway decent impression. She walked over towards him, a small smile on her face. Offering her hand to shake, she looked at him, and smiled cheerfully. "Hello. I'm Willow Rosenberg, and I'm supposed to be the new teacher for some special students."

For a moment, it almost looked like Talon didn't know how to react. But he recovered from his surprise, shaking her hand carefully, so that the claws didn't scratch her. "You aren't quite what I'd been expecting. Come this way, they've been wanting to meet their new teacher."

Spike followed, a bit less trusting of the mutate than Willow seemed to be. In his mind, there were hundreds of examples of people that had seemed charming right up to the point where they killed you… he'd even been that person a few times. There were so many people here… had to be a couple hundred. The tunnel networks hadn't been nearly so populated a few decades back. He would have heard about it in the demon clubs. Although with someone like that Talon, and a few gargoyles, the people down here wouldn't be easy pickings anymore. "So… what do you call this place?"

"This is the Labyrinth. Maggie said it reminded her of a movie that she watched, when she was younger. It sounded better than the tunnels, so…" Talon shrugged, his eyes suspicious as he looked at Spike.

"Fair enough." Spike shrugged, apparently unconcerned with why the place had it's name.

It wasn't long before they entered a smaller room, where a group of gargoyles were gathered. Willow blinked, looking at them in surprise. One of them looked almost the same as Brooklyn, save for the fact that where Brooklyn was red with white hair, this one was a light bluish green with dark blue hair. Another looked almost like a younger Hudson, his skin a bit more tan than bronze, his hair dark instead of age grizzled. But the most surprising of them was the female gargoyle with Eliza's face, her caramel skin a similar color, but her white hair shockingly pale. There was another tannish gargoyle, with a bald head and weblike ears, and a small purple one with webbed wings.

"Oh…" Willow blinked, looking at the gathered gargoyles. "Hello, I'm Willow, and I'm going to be your new teacher."

End part 3.

Talon shook his head, a sort of purring chuckle emerging. "Might as well finish the introductions. From the right, we have Burbank and Hollywood, the little purple guy's Brentwood, that's Malibu, and finally, we have Delilah. So, who's your friend?"

Willow had watched, matching faces to names. Burbank looked like Hudson, and it occurred to her… "Why are you all named after places? Except for Delilah, that is… and this is Spike."

The small purple one, named Brentwood looked at her, a hesitant smile on his face. "Thailog named us. I think… it had to do with their names." He'd gestured at Hudson, glancing down as if he was afraid of the older gargoyle's reaction.

Hudson sighed. "Ahh… when we first came to Manhattan, only Goliath had a name. The rest of us ended up picking names from parts of the city… and the river."

Willow nodded, a corner of her mind wondering why they hadn't had names before deciding that question could wait for later. She settled herself on a cushion, smiling cheerfully at the gargoyles. "Okay. Now, since I'm supposed to help you learn, why don't we start with you telling me what you know, and if there's anything in particular that you'd like to learn? Then, I can start planning how to start your lessons."

Hudson smiled, and let himself out of the room, Talon leaving with him. Willow barely noticed their absence, being quickly caught up talking with her new students. They had heard about books that the other people in the Labyrinth had enjoyed, and wanted to be able to read them. To understand why money and taxes made so many people sad, and understand why they became stone in the daytime. Willow had asked for specific books that they would want to get to, and had smiled, telling them that they would have to work up to the books, and that it would take a while before they were ready for the complicated parts of science.

"You have pretty hair. Red, like Demona's, but… softer." Brentwood's voice was a bit hesitant, and one of his fingers had reached out, touching a lock of Willow's hair.

She smiled, feeling glad that they weren't rejecting her, weren't just lurking with quiet dismay. "Thank you. A lot of people just think it's sort of odd."

There was a sudden thump against the wall, and Willow jumped, startled. "What… okay, I'm going to check that out."

She stood up, opening the door with a shaking hand to see Talon holding Spike against the wall, hand around his throat. "Eep! What's going on here?"

Hudson, who had simply been glaring at Spike, shook his head. "Talon is reacting a bit… forcefully. Lass, did you know that your… that Spike isn't quite human? There's something a bit off about his scent."

"He smells like blood and death." Talon's words were growled out. "And it isn't his blood."

Willow blinked, her mind stuck on the fact that no matter where she went, people were always smelling things. "Well, I did know that, just not that you could smell it. You can put him down, Talon. Spike is a vampire, I suppose it only makes sense that he'd smell a bit different."

Spike's hand got a grip, and he pushed Talon's hands with a small popping noise, dropping to the floor with a small growl, blood oozing from his neck. Talon pulled his hand back, ears flattening, tail lashing.

Willow looked at Spike's neck, relieved that the wounds weren't deep. "It's a really long and complicated story, but in case you didn't know, vampires are real, Spike is one. He's not going to hurt anyone in here."

"He dislocated my thumb!" Talon looked furious, glaring at Spike, who was standing behind Willow.

"Only because you were half choking him, having already slammed him into a wall!" Willow glared back, feeling the urge to use her resolve face. "Look, it's good that you want the people here safe, but Spike won't hurt them. And let me take a look at your thumb…" Examining his hand carefully, Willow noticed that other than the fur and the claws, it was pretty much the same as a regular hand. Right before she used a tiny magic to speed healing and a slight pressure, Willow looked up again. "This will hurt a bit."

Talon just looked at her, his expression filled with puzzlement, before glaring once more at Spike. "He'd better not be trouble."

Willow just sighed as Talon stalked away. "Well, that was… more excitement than I think we needed for tonight."

"I thought… Ma… Thailog said there were no such thing as vampires." Delilah's soft voice distracted Willow from her worries.

Turning, Willow smiled at the caramel colored gargoyle. "My mother would have said the same about gargoyles… that or made a comment about water drains. But gargoyles are real, and so are vampires. So are… well, a lot of things, actually."

Spike shook his head, resting one hand on Willow's shoulder. "I'm here partly to keep Willow safe. Of course, I always did have a soft spot for gargoyles. But I'm not going to be making trouble down here. Wait, Red, are you going to teach them about real sports? Manchester United?"

Willow looked over, her voice teasing. "Spike, do I look like an expert on Manchester United? Or any other team for your British football? Which Americans call soccer. No, I'm not an expert. Maybe you can explain it to them."

"Sounds like a good plan to me." Spike grinned.

From inside the room, there was the deep voice of Hollywood. "What's Manchester United?"

Catching sight of the way Spike's eyes lit up, Willow sighed. This was going to be interesting.

End part 4.

It took a lot of effort, but Willow managed to keep Spike's enthusiasm for his beloved Manchester United from entirely overwhelming everybody. The clones thought that he was fascinating, and hoped that he would come back and see them again. Spike was delighted by the opportunity, and promised that he would definitely be coming back. They still had to learn all about the teams, and the rules, and why American football was a bloody joke, as Spike put it.

Owen looked entirely relieved to get out of the underground tunnels, and he was brushing the sleeves of his shirt, as if trying to keep them impeccable. As if anyone could look spotless and unrumpled after spending a few hours in underground tunnels… well, actually, Owen came close.

Leaning closer, Spike whispered "I'll be able to get us back in there. He won't have to wrinkle his nancy-boy clothes."

"Spike! Be… well, not so rude when he's here! I think he's sort of important at Xanatos… He doesn't wear the sort of suits that say minion, not even corporate minion. And he doesn't carry himself like a minion. The way he acts, he's either very important, or very certain that he will be important. So if he can maybe get me fired, try not to annoy him?" Willow hissed her words at Spike, trying to keep them soft enough that the other people wouldn't hear her.

"Why do you care what he thinks, red?" Spike's lazy grin was pure mischief.

"Human, remember? Full medical coverage, and full expenses for teaching my new students. And a regular paycheck that's nothing to sneeze about either. If something happens and I get sick, or hurt, or… or if I decide that they need a library of three thousand books and a decent internet connection, Xanatos will cover it. It's more that… I can't do my job well if the guys with more seniority are looking for the least little fault." Willow frowned as she tried to explain it.

"So, does that mean you have to play politics? You haven't got the face for it, Willow. Every emotion… well, every time you feel things, it shows on your face." Spike shook his head. "But you can rest easy, you got a place to stay as long as you want to be in New York, or as long as I have that bloody building. And if it comes down to it, I can scare up a doctor for you."

"I'd rather avoid the politics as much as I can. But… why make things harder than they have to be? So… are we moving tonight?" Willow sighed, trying not to think of all the possible disasters that could befall her with her new job.

"Yeah, tonight. Maybe you can do some of that online shopping and have some stuff delivered, more clothing and the like." Spike grinned at her. "Of course, there will probably be people who think we're shagging…"

At first, Willow just blushed, her mind stuck on the idea of herself and Spike… oh my. "I don't think I'm quite the type for you to fall hopelessly for. And while you may be my friend, I'm not quite that friendly to all my friends, if you follow. But I'll be sure not to argue with that opinion. Might give me an added sliver of protection."

"So, what is my type then?" Spike teased, his eyes twinkling. They were making their way back through the subway tunnel, towards the van.

"Beautiful, confident, arrogant, and bad for you." Willow didn't even hesitate. "And since you generally end up hating them almost as much as you love them, I think I'd rather pass, you know?"

Spike just laughed, one arm around her shoulder. He noticed the older gargoyle watching him, as if not quite certain that he wanted to trust him. The other woman, Eliza, looked puzzled. Maybe they hadn't told her about the little vampire tidbit…

Right about then, her jacket rang. Eliza glared at it, opening a cell phone and simply stating "Maza."

"You have to be kidding me, Matt. We're detectives, not homicide – how did you get dragged into this? And what's so incredibly bizarre that it's going to you with your conspiracy theories?" She looked unhappy.

"Think work just called her in?" Spike looked at Willow, a small worry line on his face.

Willow looked at the unhappy detective, who was listening to the phone, her face growing more and more remote, her eyes darker and clouded. "Yeah… and I don't think she's happy about it. She said homicide… so that means somebody's been killed. Maybe more than one person. If it's something particularly bizarre… is it psychotic guy weird or Sunnydale weird?"

"Owen, I need you to drop me off at the police station. Something's come up and I just got called in." She looked… rather like she was trying desperately not to be freaked out.

"Of course, Detective. If there happen to be any… unusual circumstances, we may be able to offer some general background information. There are… circles that Detectives rarely move through." There was something in Owen's voice, not quite an emotion, but… enough of something that it was obvious that he knew far more about odd things than his suit would suggest.

"Right… Hudson, if you could ask the others to be on an extra lookout? Something strange is going on." She had this look, as if she was half afraid of what she would find.

"Bet the Sunnydale version of odd has bit her on the ass already." Spike's murmur was too low for Eliza to notice. But Hudson definitely caught it, looking over at Spike and Willow with concern.

Eliza was still frowning as she made her way to the police station. She might or might not have been comforted to learn that her worry was shared by everyone else in the van as well, for an assortment of reasons.

End part 5.

Eliza Maza wasn't quite certain what to expect when she went in to check on her partner. He'd sounded incredibly rattled, which wasn't at all like Matt Bluestone. Rattled and afraid. What made it more puzzling is that tonight, he was supposed to be in on a fairly ordinary drug raid, something that should have been pretty safe.

Not… Her partner was sitting at his desk, pale, shaking, an untouched cup of coffee in his hands.

"Matt? What happened?" She had dozens of vague images flicker through her mind. Everything from dead bodies in water, to officers shot, to Demona attacking the police.

"They were already dead, Maza. Something just… tore them apart. But… the blood was… It was everywhere, and the emergency squad still said there wasn't enough for all of the bodies. It was just… horrible." His words were a whisper, as if he was afraid that someone would hear him, or that speaking the words would make things more real.

Eliza blinked, suddenly feeling rather cold herself. "But… how? What could… The strength that it would require…"

Matt looked at her, his eyes haunted. "I don't know."

"Maza, can you get your partner home safe? I don't think he should be driving. He got shook pretty bad by that mess… only bright side is that we know the Monroe boys won't be causing any more problems." The voice of Captain Chavez was almost worried, and from the slight shake in her voice, whatever had happened had to have been very bad.

As Eliza started leading Matt to the parking lot to get his car, she glanced back at the captain, seeing her duck into her office, muttering over a rosary. She couldn't remember the last time that she'd seen Maria Chavez that upset, not even when the Clock tower had been blown up during the evening shift. She'd been frightened and furious then, but this was something else entirely. Maybe she'd best see if any of the Clan had any idea where Demona had been, the Captain was muttering something about bloodthirsty demons…

It wasn't until she'd dropped Matt off at his apartment, and taken a taxi back to her own that she called the castle. It annoyed her that she had to contact Xanatos or any of his people to talk to the Clan, but… after everything, they'd moved back to Castle Wyvern. It just felt like home to them. Fortunately, Lexington was in, and he sounded fairly cheerful. He didn't know anything about Demona's whereabouts, but they'd be alert for trouble. But he was able to tell her that all of the Steel Clan robots had been safely locked up, for the whole night, ruling out that possibility.

What could have done something so brutal? And what exactly had happened to the missing blood? The whole thing gave her shivers, and she wasn't quite certain that she wanted to know the answers. Unfortunately, it wouldn't take long before the Quarrymen were blaming this on gargoyles, so they had to find out who or what had done it, and fast. Preferably before it struck again.

For the first time since she'd discovered gargoyles were real, Eliza Maza felt worried about what might be lurking in the darkness. About that other than humans lived on this world, the possibility of other beings terrifying her. Because if whatever had done that to those drug runners wasn't human, she would have no idea how to watch for it, or how to stop it from doing something similar. What if IT moved against a busload of travelers, or a club full of people? Had IT attacked those men for a purpose, and if so, what had that purpose been? Would there even be motivations that she could recognize?

End part 6.

Willow gave a little wave to Owen… Mister Burnett as he dropped them off at the hotel. It had been quite a night, and she was torn between the desire to start planning where to start teaching and getting moved to this apartment that Spike owned. She settled for packing her things back up, not that she'd had a lot that needed it, and making notes on her tablet about the requests that they'd made. Books they'd wanted to read, their questions that they wanted to understand…

Spike helped carry everything to the car. Even with Willow floating things out with her magic, it took some time. The drive wasn't too long, and while the neighborhood wasn't terribly prosperous, and it looked a little worse for wear, there wasn't the sense of menace and dread that would have made Willow freak out. There was a large building, the sort that must have originally been intended as some sort of apartment complex well over a century ago, with ornamenting at the corners and along the rooftops. Narrow balconies held planters full of growing things, some holding ferny leafy things, other boxes spawned vines of ivy or bright flowers, some held thorny looking things, while some were more mundane roses, and geraniums and mums.

"Wow… nice place. At least, from the outside it looks pretty good." Willow looked at it, feeling rather impressed.

Spike just chuckled, leading her towards the lobby area. Pushing open the doors, they stepped into an area with a tile mosaic floor, and an assortment of couches and chairs holding an assortment of beings. Most didn't look quite human, like the purplish woman with white eyes, or the big thing that looked almost like a humanoid Shar-Pei dog without the fur. The assorted beings turned, looking at the new arrivals with curiosity. One of them, a seven foot orange scaled guy built like a line backer made a sort of rumbling noise, and in a voice like falling stones muttered "This isn't a human run place."

A vampire in a pair of jeans and a Hard Rock café shirt came over, his ridges in place and a businesslike air about him, making 'sit down' gestures towards the handful of residents. "Calm down, people, what seems to be the problem? Oh. Master Spike… And who… is this?"

Willow looked at the new vampire, fairly certain that this had to be 'Greg' that Spike had talked to earlier. He seemed to be well acquainted with personal hygiene, but not obsessed with it. Calm, in control of his impulses and hunger. He didn't feel as old as Spike, but he felt older than the average minion that they ran into on patrols.

Spike smiled, one hand resting on Willow's shoulder. "This is Willow. She's a witch, so none of that anti human garbage around her, or she'll turn you into a rat. And if any of you have a problem with her, I can rip your arms of and beat you with them."

"I thought witches were supposed to turn people into frogs?" That almost sleepy sounding question came from the wrinkly guy, his voice a soothing tenor that sounded entirely harmless.

Willow looked at him, offering a hesitant smile. "That all depends on the culture and the story. Personally, frogs aren't my thing."

Nobody offered any hassles as they brought the luggage in, although the floating did cause a few eyebrows, or their equivalents, to lift. The big orange guy with the rumbling voice spoke, "Isn't that a bit much for you, little red?"

Willow looked over at him, a smile on her face. "Nope, not really. And if I'm little red, does that make you big orange?"

He just laughed, relaxing back against the couch. "You aren't bad, for a human. Actually, I'm Krannos. Looks like you'll fit in here after all."

Spike just chuckled, loading the luggage into the lift. "See, I told you that things would be alright. Probably be charming life stories out of them and giggling over cookies in less than a week."

"Spike! I don't even know if all the people here speak English! What if… what if someone only speaks Fyarl or Chambeshi or something? I don't speak either of those languages, so how would I get them to tell me all about themselves over chocolate chip cookies?" Willow tried not to giggle, certain that she was failing.

"You're the smart one, I have no doubts that in a couple months, you'll be chatting with anybody in here, with no communications problems at all. Maybe you'll learn Chambeshi, or find a handy magical equivalent of a Babble fish." Spike opened the door, carrying trunks into the sitting room of the nice apartment. "Greg said it has two bedrooms, one with a window, one without. Guess which one you get?"

Willow looked around, eying the subdued wallpaper, the slightly old fashioned yet comforting furnishings. There was a very modern looking television, and… yes, there was the perfect place to put her computer. "You don't think you'll be working on your tan in the morning sunlight? I don't even know how much light would get in, although there must be enough for the balcony plants…" She looked at him, letting the teasing fade. "Thank you, Spike. For everything, and… well, thanks."

"You're welcome, red. It's a new start for us both. That doesn't mean we have to do it alone. Besides, Greg and I can't be the only vampires in this city, what if you ran into a dangerous one? Or a pack of them? You could end up ripped apart." Spike had that little frown, one that said he was thinking of all the ugly what if's that could have happened. "Gargoyles… That should make things a bit better."

"Yeah, gargoyles." Willow could feel herself smiling. There was so much potential in the future right now… Spike didn't have to keep her around as an alternative to being alone, but maybe… maybe their friendship would be strong enough that she wouldn't drive him crazy? "That should help…except for that QuarryMen stuff. It has to be stronger here, and… They just sort of remind me of the whole MOO thing."

Spike looked at her, one hand holding a cigarette. "Red? What MOO thing? Is this something that I somehow missed?"

Willow ended up explaining that whole mess, with the 'murdered children' that had turned out to be Hansel and Gretel, except that they were really an evil demon that traveled around making stories of 'sacrificed children' to start witch-hunts. About how it had influenced all the parents in Sunnydale, and they'd ended up creating Mothers Opposed to the Occult, or MOO for short, led by Joyce Summers and Sheila Rosenberg. The terrible feeling of being tied to a stake, watching as her mother lit the fire, and her mother and Joyce talked about 'how hard this was' for each other.

Spike looked shocked and horrified by the whole mess. "Joyce? She tried to burn… well, you and the mouse? Do you suppose that you can fix her? Now I know why you had to drag the bit of fur across the whole country though."

"It was the demon. Giles thought that it had a stronger influence over her because she was the first parent to see the sort of bodies. She managed to apologize to me and Buffy… my mom just sort of repressed the whole thing." Willow felt a bit sad.

"Hopefully, we won't run into anything like that here." Spike offered the words, part of him thinking that this was New York, they could probably find something weirder.

End part 7.

In the… well, it was more like afternoon than morning, Willow set up her computer, and went online to order a few things. Mostly school supplies, but also some clothing and a couple bits of furniture for the apartment. She unpacked some more of her stuff, although the books had to stay in their trunk until the shelves that she'd ordered arrived.

But Willow was curious about the apartment building, and after making certain that she felt sufficiently dressed for company, she let herself out of the apartment, sort of meandering through the halls a bit. She could smell things cooking from some of the rooms, and while she could recognize baking bread and the scent of roasting chicken, others she could only identify the presence of peppers, or something lemony, which could have been someone cleaning floors, or even a lemon fresh scented non human.

"Red, why don't you come sit with us." The gravely voice was immediately recognizable as Krannos.

Smiling, Willow made her way over to the cluster of people and settled on a cushion. On the table in the middle of the seats was a plate of what looked like red and green speckled cookies and smelled like peppers, and a pan of brownies. "Afternoon, Krannos. I don't think anyone else was here last night when we got here… umm... I'm Willow."

Krannos chuckled, a sound that reminded Willow of a pile of pebbles and rocks cascading down a cliff. "No, they weren't. But they've heard about you, and how you arrived with Spike, the killer of two Slayers. People have been curious about you."

"Anything in particular that they really want to know?" Willow smiled, glancing at everybody. "Because otherwise, I really wouldn't know where to start."

"How you met him, how they can be sure that you're a witch, where you come from…" The speaker was a rather rotund blue female, her body covered in a fine pelt of fur, with two pairs of dark eyes. She wore a peasant style blouse of unbleached fabric, and a brown printed long skirt, rather like something that Tara would have worn.

"We first met a few years back, and it had to do with… well, he knew one of my acquaintances from way back, and he was trying to find one of my friends. Then… well, that's a really long story, actually. And parts of it might not be good for explaining over cookies." Willow paused, trying to think of how to explain that whole mess in a way that wouldn't embarrass Spike. Hmm… best leave that story for much later.

"Brownie? Primrose tea?" The speaker appeared to be a female of Krannos' people, and she was shorter, barely over six feet, and with a deep crimson frill running over her head from just between her eyebrows over her skull, tapering near the base of her neck. She wasn't wearing a lot, and all of it was close fitting leather.

"Thanks." Willow accepted both the brownie and the glass of iced tea. She sipped at the tea, noticing that it tasted a little like rose petals, sort of odd and memorable. "I grew up in Sunnydale, home of the Hellmouth. It wasn't fun."

[How does that assure us of her safety? Is there not a Slayer over the Hellmouth?] The speaker was a very, very lean creature perhaps Willow's height, it's smooth skin a bluish gray, and a tiny mouth with needle like teeth. It held a china teacup, sipping delicately from it. It had used Tessori, a demon language, and addressed Krannos, most likely assuming that Willow wouldn't understand the words. It's voice was either a tenor or low alto, and didn't give any clues towards a gender. Maybe it's species were hermaphrodites?

Willow looked right at it, and smiled slightly. "Who in this room is entirely harmless? You could assume that Spike would not have brought me here if he thought that I would be a danger to those already living here, or that if I'm going to sit down for tea and brownies, that I might think it bad manners to attack you. And yes, there is a Slayer over the Hellmouth. She's quite busy enough there that she's not going to worry about New York."

Seeing the astonished looks on everyone, or at least, what she assumed were astonished and surprised expressions, Willow blushed. "I understand Tessori, but I've been told that my accent is horrible."

"Do you speak many non human languages, Willow of Sunnydale?" The blue furred woman who had first asked where Willow came from sounded curious, and hopeful.

"I can speak maybe six badly, recognize another dozen. I'm better with reading them than the speaking… Some of them aren't really intended for somebody with a human mouth and voice box. Of course, I wouldn't mind a bit of help in anyone finds themselves wincing too often at a mangled word." Willow nibbled at the brownie, thick and rich with chocolate and nuts.

"What brought you to New York?" The female of Krannos' type, was she his relative? His mate? She spoke, her words thoughtful.

"I left Sunnydale because someone that I thought wanted to be my friend was only trying to use me to hide from her enemies. I came here… I have a job as a special instructor for some students who can't use the public education system." Willow sighed, staying within the terms of the nondisclosure statement.

Someone else, a tall yellow green patterned being with a row of knifelike plates down his back settled on a cushion, flipping from a baseball game to a talk show about lesbian lovers dumping their girlfriends because they were pregnant with their boss's baby to something with a Quarryman speaking about the gargoyle menace. The assorted people in the lobby turned, glancing at the screen, most of them turning back away with mutters of intolerant humans and something about not knowing a menace until it bit them on the ass.

Willow looked at the person, wondering how someone could be quite so consumed by hatred. "He's so eager to hate that he's not even making sense. Those horrible things… there's no proof, nothing beyond Gargoyles look different, they aren't like humans, so they must be bad. He doesn't want to look past wings and different colored skin to see that they're people too."

"Humans are good at hating." Krannos spoke as close to softly as he could.

Willow sighed, sipping at her glass of primrose tea. "I know. Not something that I'm particularly proud of… yay, my people can kill thousands at a time… yay, my people hate just about everything that's different, including each other… Makes me ashamed to be human sometimes."

"Don't worry, little red. It's not your fault." This came from the bluish gray being of questionable gender. Willow had the feeling that the comment was supposed to be a reassurance. "After all, you can't choose what species you're born or hatched into."

With a small smile, Willow settled back into the chair. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad staying here, although she had the feeling that it might not give her a lot of help with dealing with other humans. It was starting to look like the closest to human company in this place would be Spike and Greg. At least none of it would feel just like Sunnydale…

End part 8.

The door opened, and a figure came into the lobby. For a moment, Willow couldn't quite place what was so odd about the guy, but then it dawned on her. He looked human. Sort of brownish blond hair, a light tan, unremarkable clothing… average height and build… The guy looked so human and nondescript that it almost freaked her out. How could someone be that unremarkable?

He was muttering things under his breath as he moved towards a particularly soft looking chair, something about "… furious and I can't really blame them. Bloody, nasty mess, with bodies strewn and the energy signature… damn mess, is what it was. Only thing that might have made it worse would be if they'd got the cops… or civilians… still a mess."

"So, green eyes, what's got you in a snit?" This came from the wrinkle skinned demon that resembled a Shar-Pei, who'd identified himself as Ed, and mentioned a cousin named Clem that lived near Sunnydale.

"There was supposed to be a drug bust last night. Problem is that something got there before the cops, and ripped the drug smugglers to bloody bits. Hell of a mess, and the energy traces left at the scene… It's enough to turn my stomach from three blocks away." He made a face, accepting a glass of primrose tea and taking a sip before he paused. "Wait… who's this? A new person?"

Willow smiled a bit, feeling almost unsettled. Something about this guy… it wasn't… The feel of him didn't match his appearance. It wasn't a feeling of danger, just… sort of power, but wild, like the power in nature or chaos, not the power in a witch or sorcerer. She would almost bet that he wasn't really human. "I'm Willow. I just got here with Spike last night."

"Right, Willow. Aren't you a bit out of place here?" He looked at her with his eyes, which were far too green… humans didn't really have eyes the color of backlit emeralds.

"Maybe. But it seems pretty nice. And it's not easy to get an apartment in New York. It's not like I'm precisely normal myself, but… what happened that has you upset? What sort of energy traces?" She wasn't certain how much she wanted to reveal about herself to this guy.

"It's hard to explain. I'm not sure that you'd get it." He paused, closing his eyes as if searching for words.

Willow felt something touch her defenses, a light touch that 'felt' like leaves and sand and dizziness brushing over her, as if trying to learn what she was inside. She strengthened them a little, looking at the green eyed man who wasn't human. "Stop that, it's rude. And what are you? You definitely don't feel human…"

"Well… that wasn't what I'd expected. Maybe you would get it after all…" He offered a smile, far too warm and perfect to be truly reassuring. "You may call me Robin Lockwood. It's not my real name, of course, but it's the one that I'm using. As for what I am…" There was a faint shimmer, and he was suddenly greenish, his now unruly hair the color of leaves, his skin the greenish brown of a newly sprouted tree, his ears large and pointed. Only his eyes and clothing remained the same. "I'm one of the Fae, of course."

Willow blinked, feeling as if the bottom of the couch had dropped out from under her, only she hadn't moved. Robin was one of the Fae… the Fae were real… She thought that she heard someone snickering in the background. "Oh. Of course. So… what about that energy signature thing?"

"Well, there was naturally the whole massive remnants of pain and violence and death. But there was something else, something that felt almost like a ritual…" Robin shivered, apparently unhappy to even think about it.

Willow sighed, somehow not surprised even as she was surprised. "Like… some sort of ritual sacrifice for a big spell? Or more like, 'hey, we aren't strong enough to do this, let's kill some people and draw power from that?' Because umm... neither one is very good."

"I'm not sure, but you are right in that neither one is particularly good. Perhaps you'd care to go check it out yourself?" Robin's expression was somewhere between mocking and challenging.

Standing up, Willow frowned at him. "This is a very bad thing, and I really doubt that the police here are prepared to deal with magical crimes. What if whoever did this is trying to call something big and terrible that will eat everything in its path? What if they're trying to bring about the apocalypse? What if they grab someone that you care about next, or even you? This isn't something that you can ignore!"

Glaring at the self proclaimed Fae, Willow walked out of the room, having the sinking feeling that this very bad thing would turn out to be important. Probably in the Hellmouthy evil sort of way. And if it was a possible threat to her students, shouldn't she check it out? Okay, this probably wasn't one of the smarter things for her to do, but…

She had no trouble finding the place. All it took was checking a newspaper, with the bold headline 'Smugglers Slaughtered Over Drugs' with a description of dismembered bodies scattered through a warehouse over boxes of now confiscated drugs. It sounded awful. It was slightly harder to find the place, but once she got close enough, there was a sort of crowd of people, gawking at the building, which they weren't allowed to enter. She could feel it… the negative energies of pain, and death, and blood magic. And there was something else, that she couldn't quite place…

"What did they do?" The ragged whisper came from somewhere to the right.

Looking over, Willow saw a tall woman with red hair, dressed in a suit. After a moment, she realized that it was Ms. Destine, whom she'd seen once, buying suits. She was staring at the place with an almost blank expression of horror. Maybe she was having trouble believing that something so brutal could happen? Or maybe… A speculation bloomed inside.

Gritting her teeth, Willow shifted her perception so that she could look at Ms Destine's aura. It wasn't nearly as intrusive as the probe that Robin had tried, and if Ms Destine looked, all she would see or notice would be some strange redhead staring at her. As she'd expected, the energies that filled the place were awful, and did try to turn her stomach. She could hear the echoes of screaming, and growls, and the sort of wet popping noises that had to be limbs ripped from their sockets. But that was to be expected, as was the curious/vindictive/appalled/fascinated feelings of the crowd.

Ms Destine's aura wasn't normal at all. First, there was the age of it… a feeling of age that the only comparison that she could make was Anya, who was eleven hundred and something. And it had the vibrancy of a magic user, an intensity to the colors that set apart those with the potential or skill at magic from those without. Her colors were like a scattering of rubies, garnets, and amethyst, and the feeling of them seemed… odd. There were also powerful spells laced through her, powerful spells cast by something inhuman. One had the deep rooted feeling that said it had been there for a long, long time, and also seemed to have cords binding Ms Destine to something or someone elsewhere. The other… it was probably no more than a couple years old, and amazingly powerful. It did something, but she couldn't tell what. Glimmering underneath were the shimmering shells of protection that told her that Ms Destine was also a practicing user of magics. The only reassurance was that there was none of the tainting of someone that practiced blood magic, sacrificing others for power.

Not that that could be taken as an assurance of safety, or that Ms Destine was a good person, only that her magical practices were… not cast in the blood of others. She was powerful, very old, and… maybe not human, although it didn't feel like the same sort of not human as Robin.

That was when Willow realized that New York shouldn't have the same almost sulfur and sour fear taste of a Hellmouth. It wasn't powerful, not like there was actually a Hellmouth here, but there was a hint of it. Could this… could someone be trying to open a Hellmouth in New York?

The words slipped out, half prayer, half plea. "Nobody would be that stupid… would they?"

Willow felt eyes on her, and looked over, meeting Ms Destine's eyes with her own. There was a moment of recognition, each silently acknowledging both the claim to magic that the other held, the horror at this mess, and the fact that neither of them had had anything to do with it.

Willow made her way back to the apartment building, a few wrong turns slowing her trip. Spike was awake when she walked into the lobby, pacing across the tiles muttering something in German. He looked up, and practically growled "Where did you go?"

"There was… I went to see what sort of energy mess he mentioned." Willow gestured vaguely towards Robin.

"And?" Spike looked impatient, as if he didn't see how this had anything to do with her getting into potential danger.

"I think someone's trying to open a Hellmouth in New York." Willow whispered, her words carrying and leaving horrified silence in the lobby.

"Bloody hell." Spike's words summed things up entirely.

End part 9.

Willow offered a weak smile towards Spike. "Yeah. The good, well, there really isn't good news about this. The not so bad news is that it isn't open, not even close. There's just a hint of the feel of one, so it could be stopped. Assuming we can find whoever killed those drug dealers as part of their series of rituals and stop them from doing any more."

"Any clues what did it?" Spike was looking at her, the slightly narrowed eyes and pursed lips that spoke of plans forming and twisting in his skull.

"There were… echoes from the killing. I don't know what it or they were, but there was growling, and screaming, and the sound of limbs being ripped out of their sockets. Humans can't do that, so… it had to have been something else. But that really doesn't narrow things down very much. And they used magic, which… well, it might rule out a few species, but not nearly enough to give us who did it." Willow moved closer to Spike, feeling cold and shaken from the prospect of another Hellmouth. Being across the country for that was one of the plusses to moving here.

"Hellmouth's are bad." The spiked greenish guy from last night spoke, one hand holding a throwing blade that had a curious resemblance to… no, it was one of his spikes. Hadn't there been one of that species at that 'Slayerfest' disaster that had forced Buffy and Cordelia to work together? "We don't need one of those here on top of everything else."

"Glad we're all on the same page here." Spike's voice was dry, not quite sarcastic. "Got a plan to help prevent it?"

Tilting his head, the maybe assassin shrugged, tossing the blade in his hand, almost like a calming motion. "Plan's too generous. It's just… some of us can listen in places that Red there can't, since she's human. We can listen to the local rumors, try to learn who might want a Hellmouth, where they are. Maybe pay them a little visit…"

"There are rituals that can cleanse an area from the taint. From the start of the Hellmouth. But the catch is that all the ones I know of take a minimum of three powerful mages. More powerful than me. I know of one that might be willing to help, but…" Robin spoke, still in his green Fae form.

"How powerful do they need to be? Isn't Willow over there a witch? That's a type of magic user, maybe she could be the second in that cleansing ritual?" Ed's words came from the couch, and his ears had flipped back, much the same way that an unhappy dog's would.

"The type doesn't matter nearly as much as the level of power. Most humans can't come close by themselves, they need to be in groups. Which would work, but I wouldn't have any idea where to find enough human witches or demon witches for that matter." Robin shrugged. "So, how powerful are you, Red?"

Willow looked at Robin, seeing that same look of smug superiority on his face. As if no human could possibly be anything that would impress a Fae. It made her feel insulted, and angry, and a bit curious how powerful the Fae actually were. She dropped the masks that she'd used to conceal how much power she held, letting the strength of her magic leak out. It wasn't the same vulnerability as lowering her shields, but it was like stepping from the shadowy corner into the spotlight. "Why don't you tell me, Robin. Am I strong enough for this ritual?"

Some of the demons in the room stopped, turning to stare at the conversation. Ed shivered, as if something was itching on his skin. Krannos made a sort of rumbling 'hmmm…' Spike made a low growl, his features shifting to vampire.

Robin blinked, his jaw dropping down a bit. "I think… you could do this. You could do a lot, Willow of Sunnydale."

"Good. Now, can we try to figure out who wants to open a Hellmouth and where they are so that we can stop them? Maybe you can talk to this other mage that you know about the cleansing ritual?" Willow tried to stay calm, but she could feel everyone's eyes on her. She rebuilt the masking shields, covering her power again, not caring for the attention.

"Yes Ma'am!" The high-pitched voice came from a previously silent creature that looked almost exactly like Cousin It from the Addams Family, only a bit blonder.

A good handful of the residents made their way out, their expressions or bearings showing their determination to find out who was threatening their town. Some of them instead sort of edged back out of the lobby, retreating to their rooms, possibly trying to just stay out of it. Maybe they didn't know or care what a Hellmouth would mean.

"I'll just go talk to that mage I know…" Robin offered a flamboyant salute that featured a bow, and when he stood up, he again had that impossibly bland human appearance.

Willow sighed, looking over at Spike. "I think I'm just going to go upstairs. It's been a very long afternoon…"

"Right. Make some more online orders, work on those lesson plans. Have a little faith in the rest of us." Spike nodded, and waved her towards the stairs.

Willow offered a small smile, and started for the stairs. A nice hot shower sounded really good now, especially considering the way the scene of the ritual had made her skin creep. And really, she didn't want to go outside in the night alone, not with something ripping arms from bodies, and plots to create a Hellmouth.

End part 10.

Owen Burnett had finished a few reports that he'd then presented to David Xanatos. He was very careful to perform his duties with an impeccable efficiency that would make his somewhat bland personality a non-issue. And with it, any prying into his past. But his office wasn't as empty as it should be. There was a young man standing inside, leaning against the wall. To a human, he would have looked blandly unremarkable, but he shone with the unmistakable aura of one of the Fae.

"To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" He kept his voice bland, the professional voice of Own Burnett, his carefully constructed human identity. Cold, professional, and polished.

"You are needed. The real you. Those killings… the drug runners… it wasn't a matter of crime and profit. It was something… else." The Fae's voice was filled with emotion, and it was obvious that he was nervous.

Owen nodded, knowing that another Fae would be able to detect the truth about him – his disguise wasn't a true and complete transformation, after all. But he was a bit troubled. The reports that he'd had indicated the killings had been… appallingly grisly, far beyond anything that humans were capable of. "So, what name are you using, and in what manner are you trying to convince me to assist?"

"Robin Lockwood, at your service, Mister Owen Burnett." There was a tiny trace of humor, acknowledgement that neither Robin nor Owen were the real names of the beings in the room. But when he continued, his words were deadly serious, and the only emotional flavoring was from half concealed fear. "As for what I'm asking of you… The killings were part of a ritual sacrifice. The plan – which I do not know the details or source of – appears to be the creation of a Hellmouth. Right here in New York. While most of the humans probably wouldn't notice, I think… it would be best not to have one of those here. I'm not powerful enough for a cleansing ritual though, not to be a Third."

"Do you have anyone else for the Cleansing?" Owen was thoughtful, already debating the best way to convince Demona of this. Much as she might hate humans, the idea of a Hellmouth here would not go over well with her.

"One. A mortal woman, but she's powerful. Powerful enough to be one of the Thirds. She's staying in the same place that I am, one of the tucked away places that the humans of the city overlook. She's the one that recognized what they were doing." Robin looked slightly relieved, as if he'd dreaded the possibility that Owen might refuse.

"A mortal? Are you certain that she doesn't hold Fae blood in her ancestry?" The detail was small, and really wouldn't make much of a difference, but he had no reason not to ask.

"All I know is that she looks human, and feels pretty much human, just… strong. If there's any Fae blood, I didn't sense it." Robin shrugged. "However, she's very accepting of non-humans, almost unnaturally so for a mortal."

Owen nodded, having finally placed the other Fae. He couldn't quite remember the name at the moment, but Robin was among the lesser Fae of Oberon's court, mischievous, and a bit disdainful of humans, but not of much power among the Fae. "Find a place, and have everything assembled by the full moon. I know someone that can be the other Third."

Robin nodded, his eyes looking weary. "The full moon… of course. I will find a suitable location, and the supplies needed for the Cleansing. You'll be in touch if you need anything, I'm sure."

"Of course." Owen nodded. A potential Hellmouth… that was definitely something to interfere with. He could use the excuse that it was for practice, or an old charge, perhaps, but the truth of it… He'd come to hold a measure of fondness for some of these mortals, and for the Clan of gargoyles as well.

A short time after Robin had left, Owen also left the Xanatos building, to any casual observer just another over worked executive making a very late journey home. He looked calm, and entirely unconcerned as he made his way to a dark section of alley. A quick glance revealed that it was empty and unobserved.

For the space of a heartbeat, the image of a pale haired, formal executive was replaced with a shorter figure in a flowing tunic, with long white hair and pointed ears, and then the alley was empty once more.

He'd used his magic to take him directly to Demona. He appeared floating in the air a bit behind the blue gargoyle, slightly surprised to find her in a park, gazing at a pond with a fountain at the center. She looked almost… peaceful. Pity that it most likely wouldn't last. "Good evening, Demona."

"Puck." Her voice was almost flat as she turned around, hints of dismay and distrust evident. "What brings you to drop by? Surely not the desire to catch up on lost time…"

"Suspicion? My dear gargoyle, what on earth could cause… well, never mind that one." Puck grinned, delighting in the freedom to act as he wished. Part of what made his disguise of Owen so effective was that he'd included a few restraints on his behavior. It felt good to be free for the moment. "New York is about to have a very big, very ugly problem."

"So someone is that foolish. I was hoping that I was mistaken, that the traces of ritual weren't…" She shook her head, looking as if she skirted the edge of memories. "Not even I would try something that dangerous, Puck."

"I hadn't even considered that of you. No, what brings me here…" Puck paused, trying to figure out the best way to phrase this. "You are still a practicing mage. There is a ritual that can be used… It won't close it if they can finish creating a Hellmouth, but it can erase their progress. Unfortunately, it requires either three powerful casters, or enough lesser casters to make up for it. To be blunt…"

"You hate bluntness or getting directly to anything, trickster." She was looking at him, traces of irritation in her eyes.

"For something like this, I'll make an exception. To be blunt, the Cleansing ritual requires three powerful magic users that do not use Blood Magics. There is something of a scarcity of people with the required degree of power in the area, and I hesitate to go farther, for fear that it would take too long." He looked at her, trying to judge her reactions.

"Powerful as you might be, you and I together are still only two. Who else is going to be in this Cleansing?" There was suspicion in her voice.

"The other caster… she's mortal. Presumably human, from what he had to say. There was another who told me of the purpose behind the killings. He's assured me that this mortal woman is strong enough." Puck wondered how she would respond to that.

"A human…" Demona sighed, running her talons through her wild red hair. "At least that's better than those three sisters. When and where will this ritual take place?"

"On the full moon, and the other Fae will figure out where. I'll let you know." Grinning at her now that he'd secured her cooperation, Puck vanished. Time to return to the dull life of Owen Burnett.

End part 11.

Willow had been trying to figure up suitable lesson plans. She wasn't really a qualified teacher, with a degree that said she'd been taught how to teach, but the clones didn't need algebra and the Napoleonic War, basic addition and reading were more of what was required. None of them really had much of an education, and while Delilah might be the most practiced conversationalist, it was only by a slender margin, and still not a resounding accomplishment. Of course, considering that they'd only been in existence for a fairly short time, they were doing very good.

They seemed so nice, sweet might be a better word. They didn't think that the world was joyful and welcoming, this Thailog had made certain of that. But there was still something about them, like they really wanted to believe that there could be a happily ever after, or wonderful secrets just waiting for them to discover. Maybe it was a sort of innocence.

She had a large box of things to take down there, including some pencils, crayons, an assortment of paper for writing practice and for art, and some basic books, Doctor Seuss and Winnie the Pooh, some Sesame Street. She'd even got some videos about counting and shapes. Hopefully, they would like the new books, and not find them too difficult to start with.

Hopefully this ritual wouldn't leave her too flattened to teach the day after. Hopefully, Robin would be able to tell her when and where, and something about the other two people that would be in it. Hopefully, Robin wouldn't turn out to be some sort of enemy.

Willow sighed, and made her way to the lobby. She felt the need for a bit of sunlight and the illusion of tranquility, and that just wouldn't be good in a group of rooms that she shared with Spike. There were several beings already relaxing in the lobby and lounge, the only one that she recognized the four eyed blue furred woman, who was currently engrossed in a conversation in what might have been Russian with a scaled pink creature that reminded her of something that should be in one of those Japanese animated movies – big eyes, pastel colors, and this little, bitty skirt.

Willow allowed herself to drop into a chair near a window, a patch of sunlight falling directly over her. She smiled, feeling the warmth on her face. A small figure, perhaps three feet tall and reminding her of the leprechauns in Darby O'Gill, walked towards her, a piece of paper in one hand. Curls of hair as red as her own framed a cheerful face with dimples, and greenish eyes that seemed destined to laugh and twinkle. She was almost surprised when the voice carried a hint of a New York accent instead of an Irish one.

"Willow Rosenberg? Robin said I should give this to you if I saw you this afternoon." His smile was just as cheerful as she'd expected.

Willow took the paper, her mind trying to figure out exactly what Robin might have left in a note. Maybe something about the ritual? "Thanks."

"Sure thing. Hey, Willow? Are you sure that you're all human?" There was nothing but curiosity in the twinkling green eyes.

"Well, umm, hey, what should I call you, anyhow?" Willow suddenly paused, realizing that she had no idea what to call this… well, maybe not a leprechaun, because even for her life, that would be weird, but still…

He grinned, dropping into the chair next to her, not quite in the sunshine, but still well lit. "I'm Mike. There's a lot of my family around here… left the old country about a century back, and most of us never looked back. America's just brimming with opportunities."

Willow nodded, entirely unsurprised that immigration wasn't limited to normal humans. "Well, as far as I know, I'm human. Both of my parents seem pretty… well, human and dull comes to mind. I've always sort of hoped that I was adopted, but I really don't think that's the case. Granted, there might be a little bit of… something, but… Neither of my parents really kept in touch with their family. Mom's side has English and Irish, and a little French, and a whole slew of cousins in Washington. Dad's side mostly German with a little Swedish and some French and English. Dad's mom used to try to tell me all about it, wanting to keep the family history alive, but she died when I was seven."

"Well, we can hope there's something back a few generations." He just grinned. "Otherwise, we'll just have to adopt you as our token human."

Willow snickered, delighted in the way everyone here seemed to be willing to either accept her or just let her be. Nobody was trying to force her to leave, or to make things miserable and uncomfortable. "As long as it's not something that will turn me into some sort of nasty slavering fiend from hell…"

Mike just laughed. "No, not you, Willow. Maybe some of my people, or a hint of the Fae. Bit of tree nymph, maybe? Are there many tree names in your family?"

Willow leaned closer, trying to control her own snickering. "Mom's family, her mother's generation all got stuck with tree and flower names. There was Rowan, and Lily, and Daisy, and there were the twins Rose and Briar, and I think there was one named Cedar. I never met most of them, but apparently about half of them stuck their kids with nature sounding middle names. Mom's was Almondine, which she despises. Probably why she gave me a tree name, so I could have one that made me just as miserable."

"Do parents really do that sort of thing?" Mike was smiling, and watching her with a slight tilt to one eyebrow.

"Some do. I'm pretty sure that my mother would, although she wouldn't give that as her explanation. Probably something about family traditions, and it being a pretty tree, and who would consider it odd in California?" Willow sighed. "My parents… well, let's just say that I wouldn't mind getting adopted by someone else. Just about anyone else."

"Well, you'll probably have a few people that might take you up on that, if you stick around here." Mike grinned again, and hopped out of the chair, meandering towards a pot of coffee that someone had started on a table.

Willow didn't even bother trying to ponder the feelings of hope and something that might be pride fluttering inside of her. Instead, she looked at the paper. Scrawled across in long, flowing letters were a few phrases. 'First day of the Full Moon. Pender's Park, by the pond.'

Well, at least she knew the time and place. That was something, even if it didn't really calm her nerves any.

End part 12.

Willow managed to convince Spike to help her carry some of the supplies to the Labyrinth, where her students lived. He grumbled a bit, but it was pretty obvious to her that it was just for show. And if she worried more about her actual job, teaching the clones, it might help keep her from worrying too much about the Cleansing ritual.

"Willow! You came back!" Brentwood's happy voice was a welcome sound.

"Of course I did! You didn't think that I was just going to go away forever, did you?" Willow smiled, already certain that the littlest clone was also very insecure. "I just had to go get things. Some books, videos, paper and crayons and some watercolor paints… you should be able to have fun with some of them."

"I was worried." He looked so sad, his eyes downcast.

"Would you like to help me carry some of these things? It would give you the chance to be the first one to look through them…" Willow left the offer open, hoping that he wouldn't feel obligated, but not wanting it to feel like work either.

"Paints? I can try to make a picture?" He looked so hopeful about the idea.

"Yes, paints. We'll need to get a little water first, but you can make a picture." Apparently, at least one person would enjoy her efforts at art instruction. "It won't be the only thing we do tonight, but we can start with making pictures."

"Talon had a room for lessons. To learn in. We go there with the boxes?" He sounded a little nervous, a little hopeful.

"Sounds good to me. Then I can put these down and check if there's a telly." Spike's words didn't quite sound like a grumble, and he flashed a small grin to the little purple gargoyle.

"Telly?" Brentwood frowned a little.

"Spike is from England. Sometimes, he uses a different word for things than people from America would. That's just… slang, I guess." Willow tried to explain, hoping that Brentwood wouldn't end up confused by Spike. Of course, Spike was such a bundle of contradictions that most people ended up confused about him.

"England… that's somewhere far away? Across the ocean?" This was Delilah, a small frown on her face. "I'm glad to see you, Willow."

"Good. We brought stuff, to help you learn." Willow paused, thinking about the sentence that had just come from her lips. 'stuff'… and she was supposed to shape their future? "Can you find the others, so they can be here as well?"

"Of course, Willow." Delilah nodded, her white hair almost obscuring one eye as she did. She left the room, her talons making faint clicking noises on the floor.

Spike had simply put the box that he was carrying onto the solid looking, if rather scarred and scuffed table. With a small wave, he then slipped out the door, presumably to prowl around the Labyrinth and look for a television and a place to smoke. Willow had just shaken her head, and started unpacking. There were a few shelves for the books, and a chalkboard on one wall, or rather, several bits of chalkboard carefully reassembled until it was an almost whole one.

Brentwood was looking at the colored construction paper, trying to decide which one he wanted. Considering that he should be quite content to do that for a while, Willow turned her attention to the chalkboard, and pulled on a little of her magic. Closing her eyes, she focused on an image of the chalkboard, whole and intact, a single, unbroken panel. She felt the power flicker out, felt it dance over the slate, blurring away the cracks, spreading over the gaps. When she opened her eyes, there were only a few fading golden flickers over the pristine and perfect chalkboard.

"Willow? We're here." Delilah's voice was soft, almost nervous.

Turning, Willow discovered that indeed, they were all there. Not only that, but they were staring at the chalkboard as if it might move and bite them. Had they witnessed that bit of magic? Were they afraid of her now? "Good, please, come in, sit down. Brentwood wanted us to start with art, so this will give all of you a chance to make a picture. Any sort of picture that you'd like, crayon, colored pencil, watercolor… and you can draw anything. This is for you to just sort of relax and have a little fun before we move on to the next thing."

Things settled down, and they moved into some basic numbers and shapes. Spike poked his head in at one point, letting her know that while they'd managed to get electric hookups, they didn't have all the equipment that she wanted, so the videos would have to wait. Then they'd gone on to a picture book, and talked about different types of animals, and she'd had to tell them several times that some things just weren't suitable for pets, like tigers, and wolves, and falcons.

They'd gone back out, looking for some dinner and possibly a chance to tell someone about what they'd done, leaving Willow with five pictures to tape onto the wall. There was a bright crayon picture of what Malibu assured her was a birthday party, the little bright colored ovals surrounding a box, and a pink blop on it. Brentwood had made a watercolor collection of swirls and lines, more playing with the brush and color than any specific picture. Hollywood had made a picture of a cheeseburger, with French fries. Burbank had drawn a collection of ovals and circles that was supposed to be a cat and her kittens. Delilah's was odd, a pair of people little more complex than stick drawings, of a dark haired woman in a red jacket, and a blue gargoyle with red hair. She'd said it was a picture of her two mothers.

But the lessons had been good for the clones, and they'd enjoyed them. Spike had shown up at the door, asking if she was ready to go home, offering his arm when she'd nodded. As a small bonus, she hadn't worried about the potential Hellmouth once all night.

End part 13.

Hudson made his way through the Labyrinth, looking for the clones. While Brooklyn felt that they were some sort of abomination, and Lexington found them… what had the word been? Ah, yes, 'creepy'. They were the closest that the Clan had to children. Unless there was a wonderful change in the near future, and with the idea that the clone's new teacher had mentioned gargoyles in California, there might be, there was currently little prospect of eggs for the Clan. To put it more bluntly, the only female gargoyles in the area were Demona, Angela, and Delilah. Goliath had found a few other places with a very few gargoyles on his trip away with Eliza, but that hadn't been terribly encouraging. Three in London, four in Guatemala, the eggs of the Clan that had been taken to Avalon, and most encouraging, a Clan in Japan had been the extent of the gargoyles they knew of. Not very promising for the survival of his people.

They'd been created, made to look like gargoyles, but they hadn't been taught much of anything. And while Xanatos had hired someone to teach them how to read and write and add things, that wouldn't teach them how to be gargoyles. No, that took another gargoyle, someone to pass on the traditions and ways, and the old stories that explained 'why' for so many things. He'd helped teach Goliath's generation, and been helping teach the generation that had brought forth the younger three, Brooklyn, Broadway, and Lexington. Before, there would have been more people to teach, more young gargoyles learning, more elders teaching, but times had changed, and the gargoyles had dwindled.

He sighed, feeling his bones ache from the dampness, the joints of his shoulders and knee feeling stiff from the passing of too many years. He would also be able to learn a bit of what they thought of this woman, their teacher. Apparently, the lass hadn't been frightened by Brooklyn or Goliath, but that didn't tell him if she was a good person or not. But if he could learn how the clones viewed her, what they had to say of their teacher… Perhaps he could learn more. Learn if she would be someone they could trust, or another enemy.

Glancing along the hallways, he caught sight of one of the clones, little Brentwood. "Ah, lad. How are you this night?"

Looking up, the smaller gargoyle offered a shy smile. "Happy. Willow came back. She brought neat things. Books with pictures and letters, and paper to write on, and paper to make pictures with, and paint and crayons and pencils that write in pretty colors."

"So, you started lessons today?" Hudson smiled a little, still finding Brentwood's red eyes odd, but knowing that it was hardly the lad's fault. More unsettling was the lad's awkwardness with words and his hesitation with everything. From his size, he should be a fine gargoyle lad of nearly thirty, with those years of learning and exploration behind him, not a clone created to be a soldier and guard for a mad gargoyle little more than a year ago. "Were your lessons interesting?"

"Oh yes! We made pictures. Then, she read to us about animals, and talked about different habita… habitats. Which are places that animals and people live. And we wrote letters and numbers on the chalkboard." Brentwood was almost beaming.

"What sort of pictures?" Hudson was a bit curious. The clones were still becoming their own people, still learning how to be themselves, and still trying to figure out who they were, what they liked.

Reaching up, Brentwood took Hudson's hand and started pulling him down the hallway. Eyes bright with enthusiasm, he spoke his invitation. "Come and see! The letters are still on the board too."

Hudson knew which room the clones were using for their schooling, he'd helped carry in the table for it. But the shelves now had rows of books, and stacks of paper, boxes of crayons and paints. Five pictures had been taped to the wall. A globe sat on a filing cabinet, and there were long pieces of chalk on the tray of the chalkboard. Wait a moment, how had it… "I thought yon chalkboard was all broken?"

Brentwood leaned closer, as if he was about to tell a big secret. "It was broken. But she did something… put sparkles over it and when they went away, it was like this, all one piece."

Hudson looked at the chalkboard again, frowning slightly. Sparkles that fixed it, hmm? Was Willow a mage of some sort? Why would a mage be teaching young gargoyles how to read? It would make sense if she were a gargoyle mage, but not for a human. Mages were very unpredictable, some good, more unpredictable, and some that were bad. Where did Willow fall among those groups? "Is she patient with the lot of ye?"

Brentwood smiled, nodding his head. "Willow is nice. She didn't make us work at anything too long, we kept changing things when it started to get bad. And she didn't tell us that our questions were silly, although she told Hollywood that he couldn't have a pet tiger."

Chuckling, Hudson nodded. "A tiger might be a bit difficult to feed, and from what I hear, they don't tame very well. It's good to hear that ye enjoyed the lessons."

"They were fun. But…" Brentwood looked up at Hudson, his expression pleading. "Can we hear some stories about the old gargoyles? From when you were young?"

"Of course ye can. Let's just find the others, and then I can tell a few tales for you." Hudson smiled, glad that he would be able to try to pass on some of the gargoyle history. His questions of Willow and her magic could wait for another time.

End part 14.

And at the police station, Matt Bluestone was wondering if he had somehow offended God, or whatever forces ran the universe. They'd found a witness to the warehouse where the drug smugglers had been ripped apart, a girl of about sixteen, too skinny, with dark brown hair flopping into her eyes. She sort of huddled in the chair, looking as if she expected something terrible to happen at any moment. She'd said that her name was Cassie, and that she didn't have a home anymore.

Cassie had given a few bits of information about herself, saying that she ran a few errands for some of the local business owners, and in return, they helped keep her 'more or less okay'. She'd explained to him that she'd heard screaming from the warehouse, and it had 'really freaked her out'. Cassie had then tried to get some idea what was going on, 'so the operator wouldn't laugh at me if I reported screaming.' She'd seen three large figures run out of the building, dripping with blood. That would have been great, except for the description of them.

Large, meaning seven to eight feet tall, with either no hair or very short hair. Their arms had looked like they had an extra joint, and had ended in six fingered hands with vicious claws. There had been big, glowing orange eyes, 'the color of a lit cigarette end'. In other words, she said that she'd seen monsters. No wonder she looked scared.

Either the girl had taken really bad drugs and had the freakiest hallucination he'd ever heard of, or there had been terrible looking somethings that had killed those criminals. Considering that he knew of the existence of gargoyles, and mutated people that looked like overgrown cats with wings, and Eliza had told him about fairies being real, he wasn't going to dismiss the possibility that maybe Cassie really had seen something horrible. Especially after reading those autopsy reports.

After a long pause for all of this to go through his mind, Matt looked up at her. "Did you see which way they went?"

With a half shrug, Cassie nodded. " They jumped into a delivery truck… sort of gray, and it had some fruit on the side. Then they drove off, headed downtown. I didn't follow them."

Writing down everything she'd said, Matt sighed again. "Well, I have no idea how I'm going to explain this one. Thanks."

Blinking in surprise, she looked at him. "You believe me?"

"Yeah kid, I believe you." He looked at the papers on his desk, seeing the edge of the folder holding the reports. "I saw what was left of those guys. I knew whatever was responsible was a monster, I guess… I just hadn't expected it to come with claws."

Cassie sort of nodded, and made her way towards the exit, apparently deciding to loiter long enough to drink a cup of coffee before leaving. Or maybe she just didn't feel safe out there, after what she'd seen?

Matt Bluestone made his way to the office of his captain, hoping that she wouldn't chew him out for this interview. Of course, the fact that it sounded like a scene from a horror movie didn't help things. Tapping at the door, he spoke, unaware of the resigned dismay in his voice. "Captain? I've finished that interview…"

In his office near the top of the Xanatos Tower, Owen Burnett paused in the doorway, glancing at his employer. David Xanatos was looking out the full window, gazing over the city. It gleamed in the darkness, the twinkle of streetlights and scattered windows making the place into a canyon of shadows. Somehow, he doubted that he was thinking such poetic thoughts. "A moment of your time, Mr. Xanatos."

"Owen." Turning to face him, Xanatos offered a small smile. He seemed to have settled since his marriage to Fox, becoming a bit less ruthless, a bit more restrained in his endeavors. "What brings you here?

"I must request some time off." The words were in his blandest Owen-voice. "A situation has come up which will require my attentions… elsewhere. It is absolutely imperative that it be attended to."

"Absolutely imperative… does this have to do with the reports on Nightstone?" David Xanatos looked as if he was attempting to guess what might be motivating his loyal employee. "Or perhaps… does this affect Alexander's education, perhaps?"

"No, sir. I'm afraid that this is something more important." He adjusted the blue silk tie, wishing that his employer knew enough that he could explain. But while Xanatos knew about the existence of gargoyles, and the Fae, and even that Owen was also Puck, he wouldn't understand about a Hellmouth.

Looking absolutely stunned, Xanatos blinked. "More important than the possibility that my mother in law might try to take my only son away from me?"

"This is… it is not a matter of politics, or profit. It is…" Owen tried to find a way to explain it to someone that didn't know, couldn't understand. There wasn't time to explain everything about it. "It is a matter that could affect the entire city. Technically, I am bending Lord Oberon's commands, and justifying it because the alternative is worse than his wrath."

"Worse?" Carefully, David Xanatos sat down in his chair, his face looking paler than normal. "Something that you consider worse than his wrath? I don't even know if I want to know… When do you need this time off?"

"It would not be during the normal business hours, although you are known to keep a somewhat erratic schedule." He walked over, depositing a stack of reports and briefings onto the desk. "The first night of the full moon. I will require the entire night, from sundown to sunrise. I will be able to resume my normal work activities the next day."

"Considering how important this must be if you're willing to push that boundary… I think we'll be able to cope." The worried expression was not one often seen on his employer. "Just make certain that it's dealt with."

"Of course, sir." Owen nodded, already trying to figure out when he would be able to give the longer explanation that he knew Xanatos would want. "It is my hope that this incident will be something that can be put far behind us."

End part 15.

"You aren't going alone." Spike's determined words came from the dark corner of the room, almost echoing.

Willow smiled at him, somehow not surprised at this announcement. "You want to go with me. Is it because you don't trust Robin, because you think the Ritual might be interrupted, or maybe simple curiosity?"

With a smug grin, Spike dropped onto the couch. "Yes."

"Spike…" Willow tried not to smile. She was trying to worry about this ritual, this really big, important, demanding ritual that she was going to be working with two entirely unknown but powerful people that probably had been working magic longer than her. "This is serious."

"So am I, on occasion." He looked at her, his face still smiling, but not his eyes. "Robin s Fae, and none of the legends about them have them all 'save the human's. Fact is, some of the legends are pretty unfriendly. I believe that he doesn't want a Hellmouth, but that doesn't mean that I trust him any farther than saying this ritual will make it better. And you're talking about New York, at night. Of course something might attack, even a human."

"Spike… if a human tries anything…" Willow felt this warm glow that Spike wanted her safe, but he still had that chip. He couldn't hurt a human.

"Simple solution. Krannos and his sister informed me that they're going. Apparently something like this is almost historical, and they want to be able to tell their people and hypothetical future offspring all about it. Neither of them would have a problem with killing a human if need be." Spike grinned, leaning farther back. "You get bodyguards, like it or not."

Willow smiled at him, part of her fairly certain that she shouldn't be so cheerful that he'd just told her that three people willing to kill would be following her to this ritual. "Thanks. But you'll have to make certain nobody else gets interrupted and attacked either. It won't just be me trying to do this."

"Any time, Red. I love a decent spot of violence." Spike appeared to relax, looking almost boneless as he leaned on the couch. "Maybe a little redecoration in here… some new curtains, couple throw pillows…"

Willow just giggled, not quite certain if Spike was serious or not. It could be hard to tell with him. But things didn't seem quite so serious or troubling anymore. She wouldn't be alone, wouldn't be entirely vulnerable during this extremely, scarily important ritual. Robin had given her a paper that had the Ritual, had everything written down so that she would be able to prepare. Some chanting in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, which she could manage. Burning certain purifying and aromatic herbs and oils, also easily managed. A triangle with the other two casters, so that their energies would blend smoothly, well that was simple geometry.

She wondered what the other casters would be. Would they be human? Fae? Demons? Would their chanting be in other languages, or also Latin, Greek, and Hebrew? Would they be anyone that she might see again?

Maybe she should call, check in with Sunnydale, just to make certain that everyone there would be alright? That they were as safe as you could expect over a Hellmouth? She reached for the phone, dialing the familiar number for the Magic Box. Anya's voice was unexpectedly welcome.

:Hello, Magic Box. How may I be of assistance today?: There was a cheerfulness to Anya's voice that couldn't be just the phone.

"Hey, Anya. This is Willow. I sort of wanted to check in, make sure everybody's okay." Willow settled back into the chair, cradling the phone against her face.

:We're doing… well, we're still all doing. Buffy did run into that one guy again in the park, and they found a lot in common. He's nice, which I'd expected, and nobody here is having any objections to him. I'll have to tell you all about it later, maybe an email? Xander and I are very happy, and I hope that you're making a lot of money at your new job. Giles is… well, he's got his friend Olivia over for the weekend, so we aren't seeing very much of him right now, and he's pretty cheerful.: There was a pause, and she could hear Anya say 'That comes to twelve seventeen.' The cash register jingled, and a cheerful 'have a good day, please come back again' could be heard before she had Anya's attention again.

"I just wanted to check in. Things here are… well, things are going fairly good. I have great neighbors, and my job isn't too hard." Willow wondered how much Anya was leaving out due to the presence of customers.

:You'll have to send an email with more details. And I can give you the longer version.: Anya sounded cheerful. :But I've got a lot of customers in here, so maybe I should let you go and I can send that email later?:

"Okay, that works. It's just… good to know that everything's good." Willow hung up the phone, feeling soothed by the brief conversation.

End part 16.

Willow picked up her jacket, glancing for a moment at her clothing. A pair of jeans and one of her older sweaters, with various colored green stripes and little bands of copper. It was fuzzy, and soft, and reassuring. Comfortable sneakers were on her feet. She looked entirely normal, and pretty much harmless. "It's me, and comfy, but am I going to look silly doing a magical ritual in it?"

"How silly do most rituals look? And isn't there some tradition about… what was the term, skyclad? Think that would be a bit more traditional?" Spike grinned at her, his teasing smile comfortingly familiar by now.

"Traditional, yeah, but I don't think so. I am not stripping naked to work magic with a pair of strangers outside in the middle of New York." Willow shuddered at the thought. She was getting over her stage fright, but the idea of nakedness with strangers… eeek. She'd rather fight a pair of attacking vampire minions. "Right, let's go."

"We will make certain your ritual is not interrupted." Krannos and his sister were waiting in the lobby, both dressed in the tight leather and armed. She had swords and a collection of knives, while he had this long sort of double ended axe thing. His voice was still all rumbly, but it almost sounded… sort of friendly, and sort of impressed.

Willow blinked, smiling at the pair of them as she tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. She shouldn't be getting so choked up and emotional about people being willing to kill to keep a ritual going, right? But it was more than that. She felt accepted here, like she belonged. "Thanks. For all of this."

Krannos' sister made a noise, sort of like a dismissive snort. "You're thanking us? Something like this takes more magic than most of us will ever see, and you have that much power. It makes you special. It also marks you as a target. The fact that you're willing to do this, to help this place, to help all of us… it isn't anything that we've come to expect from a human."

Willow felt the hopes in both of them, like a glowing signal into the darkness. They were counting on her to prevent the creation of a Hellmouth. The idea of it was… staggering, and it made her mouth feel dry and her insides felt like they were tangling into knots. Could she really pull this off? They made her sound like some sort of a hero… "Well, not everybody's the same. People are different, and eventually, somewhere there has to be a nice person."

Spike chuckled, the tip of his cigarette glowing in the dark. "Willow, you got to stop that sort of thing. Don't gloat over it like some people, but at least admit it when you're doing something big and important."

She almost managed to forget her nervousness enough to glare at the back of his head. "Spike, you forgot one little thing in your description of this. Terrifying. Lots of magic in a big ritual with people that I don't know and if I fail… if we fail, we get a Hellmouth."

"Calm down, Red. I have faith in you. You'll pull this off, same as you do every other important spell, and then we can relax." Looking around, he gestured towards the trees. "Here we are. Time to chant."

Willow offered a faint smile as she followed Spike into the park, feeling Krannos and his sister lurking behind her, close enough if things happened, but out of the sight of humans. Robin was there, looking green and frustrated. Sort of floating near him was another Fae, this one all pale with long hair and a flowing tunic and pants, the sort of thing that looked straight out of a faerie tale. The pale Fae had an amused smile, as if he found something about this quite funny. And there was another person, standing in the shadows. She couldn't tell very much, just that the person seemed to be wearing a cloak, stood close to six feet tall, and had glowing red eyes. She could feel both of them, radiating power. The Fae's power was like humming moonlight, and the shadowy figure's power felt like crackling fire.

"Hey, Robin. I'm here." Willow smiled, hoping that the fluttering nerves wouldn't show.

"This is your Third? She's…" The pale Fae looked shocked, and there was something unreadable glittering in his eyes. "She's too young, what can she know about power and control and the importance of this?"

"Do we have an alternative, Puck?" The figure stepped out of the shadows, and what Willow had taken for a cloak turned out to be a pair of wings, belonging to a red haired gargoyle woman with blue skin.

Willow blinked, part of her fairly certain that this gargoyle seemed almost familiar somehow. The red hair, the cheekbones… but the only red haired gargoyle that she'd seen had been Ember, years before. Why would this one look familiar, when they hadn't met?

The blue gargoyle woman looked over, her eyes meeting Willow's. "You look like you've never seen a gargoyle before."

"Actually, you're the second red haired gargoyle that I've met. Is it more common for gargoyles to have red hair than humans?" Willow offered a smile, hoping that the gargoyle woman hadn't felt like she was trying to be rude.

"The second… But… It is more common among gargoyles, but still not terribly common." She looked surprised, as if she hadn't expected that sort of an answer. "So, what makes him think that you can do this? You don't project much of a presence."

"I lived over a Hellmouth. One of the first things I learned to do, magically speaking, was to not project. Sort of cuts down on scary things trying to eat me, or carve me up as a sacrifice, or change me into something else, or… well, assorted bad things." Willow tried to shrug as if it was not such a big deal. But life in Sunnydale had been scary, and this ritual was intimidating as well. She let the masking shields slip away, having the suspicion that she wouldn't be able to concentrate on them while doing this ritual. "And I've seen what you end up with if you do get a Hellmouth."

Puck looked at her, something almost like anger in his eyes. "What will happen to the people left behind if this ritual is to powerful for you? You can't tell the future."

"There are some things more important than will I get a headache. A screaming, hissing, multi headed mouth of Hell is a bigger problem." Willow glared at him, wondering if he really doubted her, or if there was something else behind his worries. She allowed her vision to slip over, blurring the physical world with the colors of magic and auras. Robin's aura was greens and iridescent swirls in a shifting pattern. This new Fae's aura was stronger, white and gold and blue in a dancing pattern that couldn't be mistaken for human. The gargoyle's aura was in gem tones, glimmering bits of ruby, garnet, and amethyst. "Shall we get this started?"

end part 17.

The ritual started simply enough. Each of them took a position, forming a triangle, the spots easily marked thanks to the lines of salt and herbs that Robin had laid out, and the candles encircling the diagrams. Willow had no idea where or how the Fae had found over two dozen candles that were close to her own height, and really didn't think it was the time or place to ask. More troubling was the suspicion that the height of the candles might be an indication of the length of the ritual.

Considering that Puck was dressed in a tunic and pants, and the gargoyle was in what looked like a few scraps of leather, her jeans and sweater shouldn't be a problem at all. Or maybe they had just gone for comfort as well. She swallowed, her palms feeling damp and her mouth feeling dry as she stood in the corner, gathering her courage to start. Thank heavens that it appeared Puck would be the first to speak in this ritual…

Soon, the nervousness that Willow had felt melted away under the rush and pressure of the power that they were calling on. She could feel it in the air, sort of like humidity, or maybe it was more like the way that a person could feel the sunlight on their skin… The presence of the power melted her fears away, pushed back her worries and her concerns, leaving nothing but focus, and calm resolve that this would work, that the start of the Hellmouth would be purified away, leaving only healthy magic and healthy ground.

That was the feeling that she loved about strong magics. When the magic pushed in, filling her with power and leaving no room for fear, or self-doubt, or nervousness. No worries about what might be lurking, or tests, or what people might think. It was a glorious feeling, and the closest that she could compare was that moment when the gargoyle that she thought of as Ember had lifted her up into the air.

Willow couldn't fly, but she could work magic.

Robin watched as the three chanted, their power thick enough that he could taste it. The pure power of the Fae, the power of a gargoyle mage, and mortal magic combined into something new, and he could feel it, making his skin tingle. Power danced around them, golden sparkles over Willow, a soft red glow around the gargoyle, and dancing wisps of shimmering mist around Puck. The ritual would work- it had to work.

Of course, the fact that Willow's magic had the flavor of human magic blended with nature magic was a little odd. Not as worrisome as the sheer quantity of it, but unusual. She'd just accepted the fact that the other two in the ritual weren't human, just accepted the possibility of harm, just… It was unsettling, and contrary to everything that he'd learned about human behavior over the past nine hundred years.

"Is it courage, or does the idea of a Hellmouth just scare her more than the ritual? Do you even know what can happen if a ritual goes bad, Willow?" Robin could feel the eyes of the vampire on him, aware that Spike had followed.

Spike twitched as the candles suddenly flared to life, every third candle burning with flames the color of the power being used. A third of them burned greenish golden, like Willow's magic. A third burned white, for Puck. The final third burned red, like embers or rubies lit by flames, showing the power of the gargoyle woman. "Bloody magic… trying to scare the life out of me? Bit late for that…"

"It's an effect of the power. They probably didn't even notice the candles lighting." Robin glanced over at the vampire. He seemed unusual, even for the type. "So, why do you think she's doing this?"

"Red… Willow would tell you that she's more afraid of the idea of another Hellmouth than anything else that she could think of." Spike glanced at the trio of mages again, and a shiver passed over him. "But it's not just that. She… she helps people, tries to keep them safe, help them get better, help them feel better. It's the whole charitable merciful sort of thing that humans are always saying is wonderful, almost never practice, and tend to ignore when they see it."

"That's not always safe." Robin hadn't taken his eyes off the ritual, fascinated and a bit awed by the dancing threads of power, more power than he'd ever be able to raise.

"No, it isn't. That's the whole reason she even got into magic, trying to help her friends. They don't even see how special she is, not for the magic, but for the caring." Spike sighed, glancing around the park.

Of course, things never go entirely smoothly. A group of minions, apparently possessing the mental capacity of a mosquito, decided to attack. Utter stupidity – why attack a group of people surrounded by six inch high Technicolor candle flames that are also glowing with power? They were soon killed, not only by Robin and Spike, but by the pair of Kordathen lurking in the shadows.

"Haven't seen many of those around lately either." Robin's murmur fell into the darkness, and if anybody heard, they said nothing.

The moonlight shone down as the ritual continued. Voices chanted in an assortment of languages, beseeching powers of protection to hear them, to heal and purify this place, to prevent the mouth of evil from opening. Power shone over the trio, and the air was thick with it.

It was a few hours before dawn when their voices became silent, and the power did something, sort of a pulsing, and then it just… seemed to melt into the ground. The flames over the candles guttered, flickering out, leaving a circle of smoking wicks around an oddly perfect circle of wax, with evenly spaced lumps sticking up to mark where the candles once stood. That was about the only warning before Willow and the gargoyle woman collapsed, neither of them moving, although they both had steady pulses. Puck sagged, looking rather worn and exhausted as well.

"That's done with, now. Hopefully, we'll never need to do anything like this again. Good morning and good bye." He just, sort of flickered, like a bad movie special effect, and was gone.

End part 18.

Spike looked at Willow, who showed no signs of moving anytime in the near future. The same could be said for the gargoyle woman. There was something about her… It clicked for him. The older gargoyle had mentioned two gargoyles to watch out for, a charcoal colored male, and a female with blue skin and red hair. He'd called her Demona, and said that she felt humans were dangerous for the gargoyle species. Considering things, she was probably right. But he couldn't leave a gargoyle just laying unconscious in the park. She wouldn't be safe.

"Right, Krannos, could you get the gargoyle? Might as well take her back with us, she wouldn't be safe out here." He lifted Willow into his arms, feeling the traces of power flickering over her skin, smelling it clinging to her. Her own power was still there, a soft feeling over his skin, reminding him of swimming in the ocean. "Guess you didn't put those masks back up, did you?"

The trip back to the apartment building was quiet. Robin had stayed behind to clean up the ritual, and make certain that nobody would find any mundane traces that would reveal anything had taken place. Krannos carried Demona, and Spike carried Willow, leaving the doors for Krannos' sister to open. The pair of them kept glancing at Willow and Demona, their expressions amazed and respectful.

"Where should we put her?" Krannos glanced at the gargoyle draped limply in his arms.

"I guess on my couch. She should be alright there, and it's not too uncomfortable." Spike was already pondering what to do about things. Not just the sleeping gargoyle, but Willow. If she was still feeling that tired come evening, maybe she shouldn't go to teach the clones tonight?

After laying the gargoyle on the couch, the pair of them left the room, murmuring something as they left. Spike just placed Willow on her bed, slipping her shoes off of her feet and letting them fall. Then, he went back to the front room, sitting in a chair where he could watch the gargoyle. He drifted into slumber, and for a while, the rooms were quiet.

Sunrise made Spike stir, instincts suddenly worried about his safety. That stirring meant that he heard the sound, like bones popping out of joint. He opened his eyes, a low growl rumbling as he tried to figure out what threat had got into his room.

The body of Demona arched up, pain causing her body to spasm even in her unconsciousness. Then, it was as if her body… yes, it was reshaping itself. Her wings and tail shrank, almost retracting into her body, even as her skin paled, and her feet shrank. Within a minute, instead of a sleeping gargoyle on his couch, there was what to all appearances was a sleeping human woman. She was still in the same leather and golden jewelry, still had the same red hair, but now, she looked… well, human. That wasn't right at all, weren't gargoyles stone in the daytime?

"Looks like things have just gotten a bit more complicated here." Spike let the whisper fall into the apartment, still looking at the sleeping red haired female on the couch. Was she a gargoyle, or a human? Was she some sort of hybrid? Was this going to cause… oh, he knew that one. Of course this would cause more trouble.

He walked over to the phone, dialing the number for the desk of Owen Burnett, leaving a message on the annoying suit's voice mail that Willow wasn't feeling well, and probably wouldn't be able to work on that project today. After he'd put the phone down, he checked on Willow, thankful that the curtains were closed. It wouldn't be comfortable to spend much time in there, but he could make certain that she was alright. After all, she was his friend, and he didn't have many of those. Not that he'd want that bit of news to get around, wouldn't do for William the Bloody to get a reputation for hanging around with humans. Or for owning an apartment building.

The question became, what would happen now? Would Demona be as much of a problem for them as she seemed to have been for Hudson and his Clan? Would the pair of Fae be trouble? Maybe that really should be would the pair of Fae try to direct trouble to them… And how long would it take for Willow to recover from this? The only other major casting that he knew of was when she'd restored Angel's soul, and apparently that had been hard on her.

Well, he had always claimed that he liked things to be interesting. Maybe this would teach him to keep his mouth shut… Probably not.

End part 19.

End Laying the Groundwork.


	4. Demona's Reaction

Wings in the Night 3: Demona's Reaction  
  
Author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
Pairing: none yet, Willow/Spike friendship  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or Disney's Gargoyles  
  
Distribution: Bite Me, WLS, NHA, WWW, Twisting the Hellmouth - anyone else please ask first.  
  
note: Things diverged in S4. Willow & Spike have now moved to New York, where Willow accepted a position from Mr. David Xanatos as a teacher for a group of cloned gargoyles.   
  
  
  
  
  
Spike had placed the gargoyle on the couch, unwilling to leave any gargoyle alone in a park, unconscious and helpless. Even if she was the one that the rest feared, claiming that she'd tried to destroy humanity. He wouldn't just leave her out there. She wouldn't have been safe.  
  
Of course, he'd been shocked when the sun rose, and instead of becoming stone, her body had changed, becoming to all appearances human. It had looked pretty painful, actually. But how had it happened? How could a gargoyle be human, or a human be a gargoyle?  
  
He'd drowsed off, sitting in a chair where he'd been watching her, questions dancing in his head. Something woke him up, a soft noise, but it brought him alert. After a moment, he realized the noise had come from her, the red haired gargoyle who looked human now. She was waking up, the leather couch creaking slightly as she stirred..  
  
"You sound hung over. Feel up to some water?" His voice wasn't loud, but he knew that she heard him.  
  
She hadn't opened her eyes yet, and one hand had moved to rest over them. Her voice cracked a bit, sounding hoarse as she answered with a single faint word. "Yes."  
  
Spike came back with a glass of water, and carefully sat beside her on the couch, slipping an arm behind her to slowly raise her to a more seated position. "Here you go. Might want to drink it slowly."  
  
As his arm slid over her back, she seemed to tense. Carefully, she sipped the water, her eyes a dark bluish green. Really, she was quite attractive. After the glass was empty, she looked at him, as if trying to figure something out. Her tongue flickered over her lips, the movement apparently unplanned and entirely sensual, as she glanced around the room.  
  
Finally, she spoke, her voice puzzled. "Who are you? Where am I?"  
  
Spike waited until she'd made herself a bit more comfortable. "I'm Spike, and this is my apartment. Mine and Red's, anyhow. You passed out after last night's big ritual, and I didn't want to leave you in the park."  
  
"You... helped me. But... you're human. Why would you... why would a human help a gargoyle?" She sounded puzzled, her voice already less hoarse. One hand reached up, dragging through her hair, the wild mass of red tendrils in disarray.   
  
The opportunity was too perfect, and he couldn't quite resist. "In case you hadn't noticed, you're looking rather human yourself, about now. Which is a bit of a puzzle, really, considering that you were a gargoyle last night."  
  
She twitched, and looked at her very human seeming hand. "There was a spell. But... you helped me. Why?"  
  
"I've got a soft spot for gargoyles. One of them saved me, years ago in London. I would... well, I don't know if they would have killed me, or just beat me up and robbed me. I got rescued." Spike paused, half lost in the memory. "Of course, I was scared half to death by the sight of him. Big fellow, probably eight feet, dark red skin, pair of horns... And he saved me. Helped me back to my feet, asked if I was okay. And like a damn fool, I asked what he was. A Gargoyle, he said. Left a rather good impression."  
  
"I thought... they didn't mention any red gargoyles in London." Her voice sounded soft, half worried, half thoughtful. It was obvious that she was referring to something, a memory that made little sense to Spike.  
  
With a small shrug, Spike looked at her. "He's probably long dead. It was over two hundred years ago that he saved me."  
  
"Two hundred... but humans don't live that long!" She looked at him, shocked.  
  
"Well, no, humans don't. I didn't. Got turned into a vampire." Part of him hoped that she wouldn't pull away, wouldn't look at him as a monster and a threat. Another part wondered why he cared how she reacted.  
  
"A vampire... you aren't acting like most vampires that I've met. All... mindless hunger and the sense of a drunken watchman. Why are you here then, with the witch? And where is she, anyhow?" Her words were thoughtful, as if she was trying to consider carefully before making a decision.  
  
Spike nodded, considering her words about the vampires that she'd met. "Probably run into mostly minions then. Stupid, expendable... mainly just there to put another body between the one in charge and any enemies. As for Willow, she's in her room, sleeping. That was a big spell."  
  
"There are different types of vampires?" She looked surprised.  
  
Frowning, he tried to explain the difference. "It's not quite that pronounced. They're still vampires, with the same limits and strength, they're just... dumb. A lot of them weren't smart to begin with, and it's harder for someone to make the change if they're only given a little of their Sire's blood. So, you end up with someone with the strength to kick down doors, and the brainpower of an ox. Good for simple orders, and for keeping enemies busy, but... they aren't there to think, or to keep you company. The ones that you don't spot as easy are the true Childer. The ones who are carefully chosen, not just the first warm body you happen to grab. It's done carefully, so they don't have to fight to change, and they're carefully taught how to be vampires."  
  
"So... why are you with her then? Considering that she's human." The woman paused, looking at the water glass. "Don't vampires just eat humans?"  
  
"Spike's smarter than the average vampire." Willow's voice was groggy, and she was leaning against the doorway. "need water..."  
  
Spike just sighed, thinking that Willow looked pretty bad. Paler than normal, maybe paler than he was, with dark circles under her eyes and her hair sticking up wildly. Silly chit should still be in bed. But while Willow had several virtues, a healthy sense of self-preservation didn't seem to be one of them.  
  
Willow came back, putting a mug of blood down in front of Spike, and another glass of water in front of their guest. She stared in puzzlement at the woman on the couch. "Why is Ms Destine in our living room? And why... oh... she is the blue gargoyle. Thought her aura looked funny."  
  
"She said it was a spell. Remember, I didn't want to leave her in the park?" Spike grinned just a bit at Willow.  
  
"Ummm. Right. Different look than the suits... probably for the wings... That explains the transformative signiture. It was nice casting with you. Gonna go back to sleep now..." Willow gave a smile, and a small wave before staggering back into her room. As she left, there was a mumbled "Red haired gargoyle women... seems to be the majority..."  
  
The woman that Willow had called Ms Destine and the gargoyles had called Demona just stared after Willow. "She seems too young to be that powerful. And so calm... or is that the exhaustion?"   
  
"It's the exhaustion. Otherwise she'd be overflowing with questions. She got saved by a pair of gargoyles too, about twelve years back or so. One of them had red hair. Funny thing about Willow, she seems to be getting along better with the non-humans here in New York than she ever did with the humans back at her hometown." He leaned back, lighting a cigarette.  
  
"Is she part fae?" The question just slipped out of the woman.  
  
"Far as she knows, Willow's human. Some of the folks here would be willing to adopt her, but that's not the same thing. What should we call you anyhow?" Spike sipped at his mug of blood, savoring the taste.  
  
"I suppose Demona is as good as anything else. Although my human identity is Dominique Destine." She looked less that happy, probably at the idea that she had to reveal anything, or maybe it was because she'd been vulnerable.  
  
"Guess that works." Spike paused, looking at her thoughtfully. "I have no idea how you react to major expenditures of magic. Would you like something to eat, or is that the last thing you want to see right now?"  
  
Demona considered for a moment. "Something light. Toast, possibly a little fruit. Coffee if you have any."  
  
"Willow's my roommate, of course there's coffee. It will take a bit for it to brew. The girl's far too nice for her own good." Spike made his way into the kitchen, pulling out some grapes and those fuzzy brown fruits that Willow got, called Kiwi's. He'd always thought that was just New Zealanders, but no, apparently that was a fruit as well. He wondered if they tasted as good. He buttered two bits of toast, bringing the whole plate back out for Demona.  
  
Handing it over, he offered a smile. "Hope this helps. Coffee's started, and I can fix you something more substantial when your stomach's settled."  
  
Accepting the plate, she gave him a small smile. "Thanks."  
  
For a while, everything was calm, quiet. She had a cup of coffee, with cream, and Spike had another blood. He kept watching her, thinking an entire array of things, most of which wouldn't be something to bring up. About how little that leather outfit actually covered, and how nicely she filled it out. Or the way he'd always been attracted to dangerous women. She kept glancing at him as well, although Spike couldn't tell if the reasons were the same or otherwise.  
  
"I can't stay here forever. I have... responsibilities. Obligations." She looked half determined, half reluctant.  
  
"You can feel free to drop by again. Although... maybe Willow has a few things you could borrow for the trip back to your place. Nice as the leather looks, it isn't quite the normal thing." Spike felt almost reluctant to let her go.  
  
After a glance at her outfit, she smiled just a little. "A good point. Should I just... Should I just look, or should you?"  
  
"You might as well go in. She's out again, and unless you're loud, she shouldn't even know you're in there. You can just bring them back some time when you're feeling better, maybe stay and visit some." Spike shrugged a bit, hoping that she would come back.  
  
"That seems reasonable enough. Perhaps you could find a bag for my other outfit?" She looked pleased, and had a small smile.  
  
"Right, I'll look while you just borrow a few things." With those words, Spike made his way to the kitchen.   
  
* * * *  
  
Demona shook her head as she walked through the door to the room of the young witch. All of this... it just seemed too nice to be real. Puck had explained the necessity of the spell, and she'd agreed with his judgment, for once. And it had been a surprise to see the quiet redhead again, the one who had somehow known what the slaughter had been intended to cause. It had been so long since she'd done anything that powerful though. She'd collapsed, loosing herself in the swirling unconsciousness that happened with magical over exertion. It had been dangerous, and foolish. She'd learned over the centuries that she couldn't count on anyone helping her.  
  
But he had. Spike had brought her here, to his home. It would have been utterly baffling had he been human, but from a vampire? That level of kindness was as unexpected as a fish building a fire. There had to be something, some hidden motivation. Didn't there? Wasn't that how humans were? Wasn't there always some form of personal gain?  
  
Carefully, she looked around the room. It was fairly neat, not to perfect precision, but enough that the girl, that Willow would be able to find things easily enough. Of course, Willow was a bit smaller than she was, more fragile looking. She didn't look like a warrior at all. She probably wasn't, especially not with that level of magical power. Would there even be anything that might fit?  
  
Eventually, the closet yielded a few things that would fit and were tolerable enough. There was a blouse, the style reminding her of what mortals had worn for centuries, in a light brown color, a pattern in amber accenting the collar. She ended up pairing it with a wrap around skirt, a green color with brown and amber and white forming a little design printed over it. There was also a pair of brown sandals that surprisingly enough fit perfectly. While she was there, she also made use of a brush, attempting to tame her hair a bit.  
  
She felt almost ridiculous. Entirely unformidable. She looked like some sort of student, someone pretty and harmless and unimportant. But she felt a bit better, a bit less exposed.  
  
On her way back out, she looked again at Spike. He was handsome, by human standards, and carried himself like a warrior, or a hunter. He seemed to find her fascinating, and she wasn't certain quite how to feel about that. It made her stomach flutter, and her nerves hummed, and her face felt warm. Was he flirting with her? Would it be a bad thing if he was? But of course he wouldn't be flirting, he was human, well, a vampire, and she was a gargoyle. Except... she didn't look like a gargoyle. Maybe he did find her human form attractive. But surely that would fade if he saw her as she really was, blue, with her tail and wings, as a gargoyle should look.  
  
"I... thank you. Both of you." The words felt awkward, almost painful, but she knew they were merited. For the ritual, for keeping her safe.  
  
His blue eyes seemed very intense as the vampire looked at her, his smile almost too warm. "You're welcome anytime, Demona."  
  
Why did she suddenly feel so warm? "You're welcome, Spike."  
  
It felt rather like a retreat as she left the building. As if she was running away from some sort of challenge, something that she didn't even understand the rules of. She managed to make her way back to the Destine Manor, still utterly baffled by the whole encounter. She would have to go back, even if only to return Willow's clothing to her. To prove to herself that Spike hadn't been flirting, that they weren't really so welcoming.  
  
But not yet.  
  
Not until she'd sorted out how to react to the young looking woman who would volunteer for such a demanding ritual. Willow couldn't be entirely ignorant of the dark side of life if she was living with a vampire. Not if she recognized the feeling of a Hellmouth. But... but why would she have taken the risk?  
  
Not until she'd figured out what it was about the vampire that made her feel off balance. Or why the memory of his smile made her feel like she'd swallowed a flock of butterflies. Because she didn't like humans, or vampires that had once been humans. She'd been betrayed too many times to trust again.   
  
Of course, by then someone would have undoubtedly told them all about her. Told them that she was vicious, evil, seeking the destruction of humanity. And then, they would hate and fear her. Just like everyone else.  
  
Somehow, the thought of that made her stomach feel as if the butterflies had turned to stone. And she didn't understand that either.  
  
end Demona's Reaction 


	5. Owen's Reaction

Author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
Pairing: none yet, Willow/Spike friendship  
  
note: follows Laying the Groundwork, and takes place concurrently with Demona's Reaction.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or Disney's Gargoyles  
  
Distribution: Bite Me, WLS, NHA, WWW, Twisting the Hellmouth - anyone else please ask first.  
  
note: Things diverged in S4. Willow & Spike have now moved to New York, where Willow accepted a position from Mr. David Xanatos as a teacher for a group of gargoyle clones.  
  
  
  
Willow Rosenberg had been the Third for the ritual. A spell demanding an unusually high amount of power, and a barely twenty year old mortal woman had stood there, casting a ritual that she hadn't known existed a week before. Not only had she been powerful enough, but she'd come through it whole, undamaged by the demands of the power, or so drained that it killed her. Magic could be very dangerous, after all.  
  
Not only that, but the feeling of her magic had been unexpected. Not at all the normal for a human. Her magic felt like rushing water, like growing leaves and the subtle edge of twilight. And yet... and yet all that elemental energy had been filtered through humanity. It felt like a blending of human magic and elemental energy, something that was almost unheard of. Almost being a very important word there.  
  
What were referred to as the Fae were not a single type, not a single people as humans were, or of an essence cast into myriad shapes as the gargoyles were, but a complex and varied mingling of beings. Some of them were almost wholly energy or spirit, beings of mind and power and soul, but no bodies. Others were shaped from the very bones of the earth, the earth kin: giants, dwarven folk, gnomes, strange scuttling things for which humans had no words. Others were formed of lighter things, but still children of earth and magic: Shape-changers, tree-spirits, things that inspired the tales of flower fairies and mushroom children. Others, like himself, were of a variety of elflike peoples, not human nor shaped of the earth, but from air, water, or will itself. All of them were accounted among the Fae.  
  
Willow felt like a blending of the Fae and of humanity. Not the type of Fae such as himself, or the Lady Titania, but some sort of nature spirit of some sort. Except that even the nature Fae were generally easy enough to recognize, to identify by the shape and feeling of their power. Willow didn't feel like any single type of being, but as if she was a blending of types.  
  
Nothing in the careful background search or the even more intensive one that they had ordered after hiring her had hinted that Willow Rosenberg was anything but human. They'd uncovered her connection to three different Slayers, with a fourth in her family tree on her father's side, and the startling news that she'd been living over the Hellmouth, but nothing to hint that she was anything but human. A genius and one of the better computer experts they'd had the experience to encounter, and if she hacked with anywhere near the determination and flair that she cast magic... But they should have found something if it was there to find. They'd found nothing.  
  
But a similar search on Anastasia Reynard had shown an equally human background, if considerably less danger. And Anastasia Reynard had proven to be none other than Titania in disguise. Certain proof that an investigation could not be a promise to learn everything.  
  
She had been intriguing before, even when they'd considered her as little more than a teacher for the clones, someone that wouldn't panic at teaching non-humans, someone who would know when and how to duck for cover in case of trouble. She'd handled the gargoyles so calmly, had in fact met some before. She'd asked careful questions at her interview - perhaps not everything that a professional businesswoman might have asked, but far more than a 'simple college student' would have been expected to ask. Far more and better questions than many starting employees at Xanatos did ask, and without giving away any of her own secrets in her questions. Granted, they'd learned of her magic, and the fact that her roommate was a vampire anyhow, but not from her.  
  
Her roommate was another layer of complication. William was William the Bloody, more recently known as Spike. He could be ruthless, was adaptable and inventive, and had nearly killed one of the Fae once, almost sixty years ago. Not a particularly powerful Fae, or anyone that Puck or Owen would be inclined towards avenging, but the simple fact that a mortal born creature had come so close to killing any of the Fae was... unsettling. If he was staying with Willow, or Willow with him, then he had a motivation. That felt very uncomfortable as well.  
  
She was also rather pretty, in an almost too youthful sort of way. It wasn't just that her coloring was intensely noticeable, or that the intelligence in her was almost visible as a spark in her eyes. It certainly couldn't be something so simple - neither Owen Burnett or Puck could be thrown off-balance by something as simple as a pretty face.  
  
But all of it together... Yes, all of those things together made Willow rather baffling and interesting. He should try to learn more about her. Just to be safe.  
  
Of course, it would be no burden to learn more about her. To learn more of the charming seeming young woman who had accepted a job teaching cloned gargoyles and fought at the side of a Slayer. Someone with power strong enough to match one of the Fae. Someone far less predictable than an initial thought would suggest.  
  
At least he would be able to study her without her knowing who and what he was. If his shields and disguises were good enough to prevent his discovery by Lord Oberon, they should hold against a young woman. Part of that would naturally be the layers of delicately woven suggestions that there was nothing remarkable about him, nothing worth a deeper more careful look... And a simple magical glance would reveal nothing magical, nothing of interest to the Fae. He'd modeled his Owen-signature on Preston Vogel, someone he'd met while planning his disguise, and employee of Halcylon Reynard. Capable, dull, possessing less magic than a typical block of concrete and about as much personality... It should be flawless. Of course, if someone did look deeper, they might see something. If they knew who he was, they could look through the seeming dullness. But why would they bother?  
  
Yes, learning more about Willow might become a very important thing indeed. Not just the flat facts of her life, but how she thought, reacted... the quirks of her personality that had to be seen to understand. And if he could find any explanation for the feeling of elemental energies in her power... so much the better.  
  
end Owen's Reaction 


End file.
